Strong at the Broken Places
by alegnax
Summary: The push-and-pull between Amanda Rollins and Sonny Carisi. "The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** This is most likely a one-shot, unless I get feedback requesting more! I probably won't be able to resist continuing it/them, since I've become infatuated with the pair. For now, though, I just wanted to write out some Rollisi feels!

She was screaming. Hysterical, glass-shattering shrieks.

For someone so small, Jesse's lung capacity was truly impressive. Amanda Rollins paced the floor of her Long Island City apartment, holding her one year old daughter close against her body in hopes of providing some kind of calm via osmosis. It was only 8 o'clock at night, which Amanda should have been appreciative of - at least this display of enthusiasm wasn't taking place at 3 AM. The pediatrician had assured her that Jesse's behavior was normal. _Babies are constantly re-learning their sleep cycle_ , he told an exhausted Amanda at their last appointment. Unsurprisingly, the medical community's validation didn't make it anymore pleasant to endure. Amanda supposed it didn't really matter: she hadn't been sleeping well long before Jesse's late night performances. Lately she had become too familiar with the details of her bedroom ceiling as her brain worked overtime. There were a lot of things that had happened in her life that could keep her up at night, but lately it was a particular kind of emptiness that haunted her when the badge was off and her apartment was quiet. She hesitated to use the word _lonely_ \- God, just thinking it made her cringe - but gradually she had come to terms with the fact that that was exactly what she was. Never one to advertise her vulnerabilities, Amanda had mentioned this feeling to another human being only once before...

Jesse finally exhausted herself, no longer able to fight against her heavy little eyelids. Amanda watched her almost suspiciously in her crib for a moment before walking away and allowing her body to sink heavily into her living room couch. In leggings and an old white t-shirt, she curled her legs up easily beneath her and shut her own eyes. She would savor the temporary peace if the gears in her head would let her. They never did.

It had left her mouth like the worst kind of word vomit, the sort that still leaves one feeling nauseated after the fact. She told herself that her workplace confession was due to feeling particularly emotional after little Theo was abducted by his well-loved nanny, but that wasn't the entire truth.

Carisi.

Carisi had taken one look at her in the squad room that night and had known exactly what she was thinking. No - what she was _feeling_. It made her skin crawl, but not because she was disgusted. No, she couldn't pinpoint exactly why the hair on her arms stood up when Sonny had so passionately reassured her about her abilities as a mother, but before she could stop herself, she was telling him the emotion she had been fiercely hiding from everyone - especially those she worked with. She had spent so many years crafting a persona of strength and resilience; icy and guarded when necessary. Lately, Amanda felt like that tough exterior was slowly crumbling in Carisi's presence. It made her feel profoundly uncomfortable. So why did she find herself almost seeking those interactions out? Hoping he would toss her little bits of validation or express curiosity about her life outside of SVU? Why -

The knock on her door jerked her out of her reverie. Brow furrowed and barefoot, she hopped up from the couch to hurry to the front of her apartment. Frannie emerged from her bedroom to trot obediently alongside Amanda, tail wagging in anticipation. Hardly thinking like a detective, she pulled open the door without checking the peephole, assuming it was her forgetful neighbor Sarah looking for her spare key. Instead of being greeted by her frazzled, familiar face, Amanda encountered someone entirely different.

"Carisi? What are you doing here?" It came out more accusatory than she intended, but she was caught off guard, seeing her fellow detective standing in her hallway with a pizza box in hand. He was still dressed in his suit from work, hair slicked back and badge on his hip.

"I was in the neighborhood. I know how Jesse has been keeping you up lately, I figured I'd swing by with some dinner," Carisi offered amicably, holding up the pizza as evidence. He smiled warmly at her and she tried to keep eye contact.

Amanda was suddenly intensely self-conscious - and simultaneously relieved that she still had her bra on. Carisi had been to her apartment a number of times but this felt different, almost like he knew he had been on her mind. That was ridiculous, of course, but he often made her feel that way. Not like she was stupid, but like she was a fumbling 16 year old girl instead of a woman with a successful career and a family. Well, okay - a baby.

"I'm starving. Come on in," Amanda exhaled with a smile. That wasn't a lie: she hadn't eaten dinner. She opened the door wider so he could step inside, watching as he shook off his coat and suit jacket and hung them up like he owned the place. Frannie sniffed him but quickly lost interest, probably because his smell was hardly exciting anymore. Amanda padded into the adjacent kitchen to get some plates and offered, "you want some wine? It's cheap, but..." Why did she give a shit if he approved of her Trader Joe's booze? God, she definitely needed a drink.

"Two buck chuck? I'm in," he agreed enthusiastically with a knowing smirk, loosening his tie as he dropped onto her couch and set the pizza on her coffee table. He flipped open the top of the box as he asked, "baby asleep?"

"Yeah... you just missed the fun," Amanda replied dryly as she poured red wine into glasses (just a bit extra in her own). She watched as Carisi adjusted his long limbs to get comfortable. With the glasses and plates in hand, she sunk down next to him - close but not too close. Frannie stretched out by her feet, as if casually chaperoning the interaction.

The two of them doled out pizza slices and chatted about the details of the day, as if they hadn't just spent twelve hours together. Conversation (and wine) flowed easily between them, something that Amanda didn't experience often with others. When she first met Carisi she thought his incessant need to talk was infuriating, but over time she found herself secretly comforted by the fact that he had knack for lightening the mood. When he offered tidbits about his family or his hobbies or his school work, he was so much more human than Nick ever was to her.

Nick.

Nick, who was just as guarded as she was and treated her like she was broken and in need of saving. Her blood boiled just thinking about how it was her cracks and dents and sharp edges that made her attractive to him; he was infatuated with the idea of rescuing her from some ongoing tragedy. What if that was how Carisi saw her? Like she was some disaster in need of guidance? The mere thought made her almost frantic.

Amanda took a large sip of her wine, the alcohol warming her throat and chest reassuringly. "Hey, uh, can I ask you something?" she said, knowing she already had.

"Sure," Carisi replied easily, tossing an unwanted piece of crust into the box and leaning back further into the couch cushions.

Another sip of wine. "You didn't come over here because of... what I said the other day, did you? Because you... feel bad for me or anything?"

Amanda watched Carisi's brow furrow in response. "Rollins, what are you talkin' about?" he responded incredulously. "I -"

"Because you don't need to feel bad for me. My life is great. And I mean, this may shock you, but I feed myself and my kid on a daily basis, you know," Amanda barreled ahead, eyeing him over the rim of her almost-empty wine glass. The little bit of alcohol in her blood was making her brave. She should have had another slice of pizza. "And y'know -"

"Whoa, whoa, Amanda," Carisi interrupted her this time, his voice just a little louder and more firm than before. He shifted, sitting up straighter and setting his glass down on the coffee table. "That's not it at all."

She finished her wine just to have something to do with herself for a second. That was a fairly benign response. Nick would have told her to go fuck herself and slammed a few things; she was always great at riling him up at a moment's notice. It had become a bit of a sick game for her. Now Amanda wondered if she was testing Carisi the way she would test Nick; she could feel her cheeks coloring slightly at the thought.

"Look, in the few years I've been working with you, never once have I ever felt _bad_ for you," Carisi continued firmly, his tone still tinged with annoyed disbelief. "So get a grip, Rollins. Maybe you're just nice to be around."

 _Nice to be around._ Oh, God, there was that 16 year old girl feeling again. She almost wished Jesse would cry so she would have an excuse to get up and get away from Carisi, because he was radiating a kind of warmth that rivaled the one from the wine she had consumed.

Unbeknownst to Carisi, the hair on the back of her arms stood up.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** See, I told you I wouldn't be able to resist continuing them! Hope you fellow Rollisi fans enjoy! I am always open to feedback and suggestions for more.

"So, who is she?"

Amanda's voice broke the silence in the car. The question was directed at Sonny Carisi, who was driving them back to the squad room that evening at the end of their shift. He didn't get the opportunity to get behind the wheel often, but Amanda was feeling uncharacteristically generous. Or maybe she was just too tired to expend energy commenting on his mildly cringe-worthy driving.

"Who?" Sonny asked her, eyes still on the road.

She intently watched the city go by outside of the passenger's side window, as if she hadn't seen it all before. She could have changed the subject, but her curiosity had been simmering ever since Carisi had offered up a little detail about his personal life. It was embarrassing that she was still contemplating it days later, but the query left her mouth before she could stop herself. "The one who's getting you to eat raw portobello fries."

"I told you: a friend," he replied a little too quickly.

Amanda turned to look at him with an eyebrow quirked, studying his profile in hopes of provoking a more honest answer without having to speak. She took in the subtle gray streaks at his temples and the stubble just barely forming along his jaw.

"I mean, she's just this girl I know. That I've been hangin' out with," Carisi offered without looking at her.

There it was. Amanda didn't need him to be more explicit; she had known Carisi long enough to be able to translate. She shifted in her seat, silently determining what she wanted to do with this information. She was suddenly keenly aware of the knot that had formed in her stomach. In order to attempt to look unaffected, Amanda began to fiddle with her iPhone, Jesse and Frannie's faces grinning up at her from the screen. "You gonna bring her around?"

Carisi cleared his throat slightly, still intently focused on the road ahead. "I dunno. Maybe tonight, she may stop by the bar."

"You invited her to Fin's birthday party?" she blurted impulsively. Amanda felt her cheeks heating almost instantly. She loved Fin immensely - he was precious to her, like family - but her exclamation wasn't due to being fiercely protective over her partner's party guest list. Truthfully, an undeniable wave of jealousy had washed over her at the mere hint that Carisi was dating. Someone would have to shove bamboo underneath her fingernails to get her to even think about admitting such a thing, but privately she knew it was true. However, even if she had allowed herself to acknowledge this prickly emotion, Amanda had absolutely no idea what to do with it.

At a stoplight, Sonny finally looked over at her, eyeing her like she had just sprouted an extra head. " _No._ She'll be in the neighborhood for something else, so I said she could _stop by_ on her way, if she wanted." His tone was slow and deliberate, like he was explaining himself to someone who was cognitively impaired.

Funnily enough, Amanda did feel like she was losing her mind.

* * *

It was hardly a formal event. Fin had only begrudgingly wanted his birthday acknowledged and had only agreed to a celebration at the local bar if there were no balloons, cake or singing. In the absence of any fanfare, it was shaping up to be a casual night out with friends and colleagues. Amanda knew the majority of the people who would show up, but she still stood in front of her bedroom mirror anyway, analyzing her outfit like a teenage girl getting ready for a date. Never one for glitz and glamour, she wore her favorite deep indigo skinny jeans, boots, and an off the shoulder top with a dark floral pattern. Nothing fancy, just a bit edgier than what she typically wore to work each day.

It felt like not enough and too much at the same time. Annoyed at her sudden preoccupation with her fashion sense (or lack thereof), she made sure to chat with the sitter and dote on Jesse before finally forcing herself to leave her apartment. Upon her arrival, it only took a few drinks before Amanda was far away from any nagging self-consciousness. Soon she was loose and relaxed, surrounded by people who had become like family to her over the years. In a bar filled with cops and detectives it was hard not to talk about work, but the atmosphere of the room was lighthearted and celebratory.

With her fourth whiskey in hand, Amanda dropped down into a chair at a little corner table, taking a temporary break from playing pool and socializing. She shook her blonde hair away from her exposed shoulders to cool off the flush that always took over her skin when she had alcohol in her veins. Just as she lifted her glass to her mouth, a familiar body appeared in the chair across from her.

"Takin' a break, Rollins?" Carisi smirked over his own glass. His cheeks were tinged pink and his eyes were bright with mischief.

"You know me better than that," Amanda quipped easily, matching his smirk as she tipped her glass toward her mouth. She leaned forward to rest on her forearms, eyes searching his face. He looked handsome, a little tipsy and disheveled in a casual gray button down and jeans. Why was she noticing that? "Where's your girl?"

She watched as Carisi leaned in as she had, their hands close in the center as they each clutched their respective glasses. Amanda felt her heart leap in her chest at their sudden proximity; it was like he was about to tell her a secret. "I have... no idea," he responded in his easy, slow way.

"Mm." It was all she could murmur into her glass, eyes shifting to their bustling surroundings to avoid looking at the man across from her.

"Hey, uh, I meant to tell you before: y'look really nice tonight. Like that shirt," Carisi said.

Caught off guard, Amanda could feel her face and chest burning with his unexpected compliment. She knew he was kind, a gentleman, but for some reason this felt... different. _He's got sisters,_ she told herself, trying to convince herself otherwise. _He knows what women like to hear._ "Thanks-"

"Hey, Bridget! Over here!" Carisi's long limbs were suddenly flailing as he leapt up from the table to get somebody's attention over Amanda's shoulder.

Amanda turned around to see who he was trying to flag down. Immediately she spotted a tall brunette shouldering her way through the crowds of NYPD regulars. She looked beautifully out of place in dark jeans and a whispery white silk tank top, long tan arms decorated with gold bracelets and a designer purse hanging off her thin shoulder. Amanda watched as she and Carisi embraced before the girl - presumably named Bridget - dropped down in the seat next to him.

"Amanda, this is Bridget. Bridget, this is Amanda," Carisi introduced the two women eagerly. He took another swig of his drink before continuing, "Bridget was a year behind me in law school. She graduates this year."

"Hi! Amanda, so nice to meet you," Bridget simpered, sticking out a manicured hand for Amanda to shake.

It took all of Amanda's effort to smile and shake her hand in return. "Nice to meet you," she heard herself say, except that it wasn't. She couldn't deny that Bridget was pretty; she was so delicate and poised it was almost like she was from another planet. Amanda felt a jolt of envy that she tried to choke down with whiskey.

"Bridge, let me grab you a drink," Carisi said, the nickname making Amanda somewhat nauseous. "Vodka soda with lemon, not lime?" Jesus Christ, he knew what she liked to drink? Gross.

"You got it!" Bridget chirped before Carisi disappeared obediently into the crowd toward the bar.

"Amanda," Bridget said eagerly, leaning in like Carisi had before, except that whatever she was about to say, Amanda couldn't have cared less about. "I'm so glad I could meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"Oh?" Another gulp of whiskey; she had a feeling she was going to need to steel herself for every moment of this interaction. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"No, no! It's just..." Bridget gave her what could only be described as a sympathetic smile. She tilted her head slightly, her shiny brown hair falling perfectly around her heart-shaped face. "It's just, ugh. It must be so hard, being a woman and a mother, doing this job. And you know, my mom was a single mom, and I bet you worry about... Jessica? Is that her name? But you shouldn't, I'm a great example - I turned out just fine without a dad! Not that my dad left us or anything, he died of a heart attack, but still."

Amanda could only blink for a moment, completely shocked by both Bridget's knowledge of her life and the brazenness she displayed to offer her unsolicited thoughts about it. She was grateful for the whiskey in her blood, because there was just enough inside of her to keep her steady. Too little and she'd panic, too much and she would fly off the handle. It was a delicate balance. She corrected her slowly, "Jesse. Her name is Jesse."

"Ooh, right. I knew it was a 'J' name!" the other woman giggled. She leaned in further still, hands creeping closer to Amanda's like she was going to try to grab hers. Like hell _that_ was happening; they weren't friends. "It's just that... Dominick told me," Bridget continued, voice as low as possible given the environment. "About your family and stuff. How they're pretty messed up and you're here by yourself. And how you've... struggled with some issues. I just wanted you to know that I totally feel for you."

Amanda could feel her heart rate quickening as Bridget studied her with that stupid, sad smile. Now the heat in her face wasn't from booze or Carisi's kindness, but rather embarrassment and anger. This seemingly perfect creature from another world knew the details of her life that Amanda preferred to keep safely tucked away - because Carisi had told her. Amanda had foolishly thought he was her confidant and ally when in reality, her life was simply fodder for his date night conversations.

"Yeah, thanks. Y'know, it's late. I gotta get going. Jesse." Amanda heard herself say to the brunette, abruptly getting up from her seat. She was a little dizzy but knocked back the rest of her drink anyway before snatching up her leather jacket and pushing her way through the bar, away from Bridget. She had to get out of there; suddenly it felt like there wasn't enough oxygen available. She didn't look back at Bridget, hoping she wouldn't be ballsy enough to chase after her.

Fin. She'd have to apologize later, because Amanda couldn't bear lingering to say her goodbyes and having to explain her hurried exit. She wouldn't even know how to. It all felt so pathetic and crazy and even though her partner had seen her through some of the worst times in her life, he shouldn't have to try to piece her back together on his birthday. One of these days, Amanda was going to have to figure out how to do that herself.

* * *

The cool evening air felt good on her hot skin; she didn't bother putting her jacket on. She needed to get home, back to the safety of her apartment and her child, who was soft and innocent and unconditionally loving. God, did she love that baby. Sometimes she thought she needed Jesse more than Jesse needed her. Even so, in that moment Amanda still found herself yearning for a cigarette and a hand full of poker chips; the comfort and familiarity of a dark room filled with chances to be a winner.

"'Manda! Hey, Amanda! Wait up!" Carisi's voice cut through the noise of the city.

She pretended she didn't hear him. The last drink did her in: now there was red, hot anger bubbling inside of her. Amanda didn't know if she was more mad at Carisi for talking about her, or herself for being stupid enough to confide in him. The reason didn't matter; whoever crossed her path now would not encounter the best of her.

Amanda felt a hand grip her upper arm from behind and she whipped around instinctively, shaking it off. "Don't touch me," she hissed at Carisi, who immediately pulled back and held up both his hands like a perp wordlessly declaring that he was unarmed. He looked genuinely alarmed by her reaction, leading Amanda to believe he had no idea what had just taken place.

"I've been chasing you for three blocks. Where are you goin'? Is Jesse okay?" he asked her anxiously.

"Jesse is fine. I'm going home," Amanda responded curtly before beginning to walk away from him again. She was just barely resisting the urge to punch him when she felt Carisi grab her again, turning her roughly to the side so her back was up against the wall of a building. He stood in front of her, his weight resting on a hand pressed against the brick by Amanda's head. There was space between them, but the message was clear: he wanted her attention. "What the fuck is your problem?" she spat, her southern accent more apparent given her level of intoxication and anger.

"C'mon, 'Manda. Something's wrong. What's wrong?" He was drunk, she could hear it in his voice, the way he said her name and how he smelled of whiskey. Or maybe that was her...

"Y'know, Carisi, you're pretty damn astute," Amanda replied, sarcasm dripping from her words. "You and your girlfriend are made for each other: you both have big mouths. What do y'all do, Carisi? Huh? Sit around and laugh about how fucked up my life is? Pity me over cocktails?" Her voice was steadily rising. She could feel tears stinging her eyes but she refused to let them fall as she barreled ahead, practically hysterical. People walking by them were casting curious glances, but Amanda didn't care. These things were the worst pieces of her, the parts she was ashamed of, and he had offered them up to somebody else. "You told her everything, didn't you? About Declan, about my gambling, my family - anything else? What else did you tell her, Carisi? What else? You mention how I can't fucking cook? How I don't go to church? What else?!" She didn't actually want to know, because it would hurt too much, but it felt as if she was outside of herself as she shrieked at him on that sidewalk.

"Wait, what? Wait a second. She's not my girlf-"

She wished she found the look of shock on his face to be more gratifying, but it only pissed her off. "I don't give a fuck what she is," Amanda hissed, leaning in closer to him like she was threatening a suspect. "I told you stuff in confidence and you told her. I hope it at least got you laid."

She attempted to slip away, exhausted by her own fury, but Carisi grabbed her by the upper arms and pushed her back, holding her in place. His grip was firm and even though Amanda was strong, she didn't immediately fight to escape. "Listen to me," Carisi demanded, the softness in his tone gone. "Listen. Nobody was pitying you or laughing at you. You've gotta believe me. Bridget and I were just talking one day, and she was telling me about her life. So... I told her about mine."

"It's not your life, Carisi! It's mine!" Amanda exploded, shocked at his audacity.

"I know, I know! That's not what I meant," he explained hurriedly. "It's just, we spend a lot of time together, y'know? You and me. So you're a part of my life and I'm proud of that. I care about you."

Amanda's chest rose and fell visibly between them as she tried to catch her breath from her tirade. Carisi's explanation disarmed her momentarily; she felt that little jolt of excitement that he had provoked with his compliment earlier in the evening. All she could do was look at him. There was a safety and security in his grasp on her arms and his proximity to her body, one that almost negated her anger. It was as if he was siphoning the fight right out of her.

"I..." Carisi spoke again but didn't complete his thought. Instead he closed the space between them, his mouth on hers in a kiss.

Amanda felt herself melt into it without thinking, her tense muscles relaxing, her body leaning toward his. There was an aggressiveness in his mouth and hands that had her heart racing for a new reason. Amanda was dizzy and hazy with emotion and alcohol, this sudden physicality making her crave more, because nothing was ever enough for her. _You're trying to fix a feeling with a feeling_ , she could hear her old Gambler's Anonymous sponsor telling her wisely. Never addressing anything head-on, always wanting to feel better now, now, _now -_ that was her pattern. And where had her desire for instant gratification gotten her? In debt, alone, constantly craving somebody stronger than she was to make it all better. She could easily lure Carisi back to her apartment, have sex with him to feel momentarily wanted and powerful, then be done. He would be reduced to mere collateral damage in the larger mess that was her life.

With palms pressed against Carisi's chest, she shoved him with all of her strength, sending him stumbling backward. Without looking at him, Amanda sprinted away to the nearest subway station.

This time, he didn't chase her.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Here is the last bit I have written so far. More will come but probably not till next week. Stay tuned!

The room was dark and humid. Lean limbs stretched out on a teal yoga mat, exposed skin slick with perspiration. Amanda's eyes were closed as she tried to breathe in the very last moments of class; it was Sunday morning and this was her religion. Each week she tried to let go. Let go of the regrets, the fears, the blood on her hands. She liked to visualize it all leaving her body like the sweat she was drenched in - then all she had to do was shower it away.

Since Jesse was old enough, Amanda had developed a Sunday morning routine when work would allow. It was Kim's sole opportunity to watch Jesse as she earned her sister's trust back; so far, it had worked out surprisingly well. Amanda would sneak out to her class then pick up pastries and coffee at Sweetleaf bakery to bring back to her apartment. She would go home to break apart bits of a muffin or croissant for Jesse to eat in her messy, enthusiastic way while Amanda enjoyed her daily dose of caffeine. In those simple moments, she felt peace.

With her hair pulled back in a messy braid and her yoga mat rolled into its strap and over her shoulder, Amanda left the studio. It was a bright, spring morning with just enough chill in the air to feel good against her hot skin. Maybe she could take Jesse and Frannie to the park to enjoy breakfast that day...

Just about to cross the street, she looked up to find Sonny Carisi blocking her path. Shocked and rattled, she stopped in her tracks, now acutely aware of how disheveled she looked. Neither of them had acknowledged what happened the night of Fin's birthday party a few weeks ago, although Amanda hadn't exactly made herself available for conversation. She had actively avoided spending any time alone with Carisi; she kept their conversations purely work-related. It was just too much - to think about, to talk about, to admit. She could acknowledge her behavior that night was a bit excessive, but Amanda was fiery and passionate and everyone knew it. It was the other part - the part where his mouth was on hers - that she didn't know what to do with. That kiss had felt both good and frightening and a thousand other things and she was drowning in it all, not a lifeboat in sight.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her surprise and annoyance apparent by her tone and facial expression.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his dark green jacket. "I wanna talk to you. You've been ignoring me at work."

"That's not even possible. I can't ignore you, Carisi, we spend all day together," Amanda replied briskly, as if stating the obvious.

He rolled his eyes before clarifying, "you know what I mean. Givin' me the cold shoulder."

"So... what? Now you're gonna stalk me?" she asked with a sarcastic little laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. She wasn't going to deny it: she knew everybody had noticed the tension between them and her obvious desire to keep him at a distance.

"We both know this isn't stalking. This is me... utilizing all my resources. I just remembered Liv mentioned that you come here." There was a small smirk playing at his mouth that made it difficult for Amanda to keep eye contact with him.

 _Can't get anything past a detective on a mission_ , Amanda supposed. "Well... I'm on my way to pick up breakfast for Jesse and she's with Kim so I gotta make it fast. I don't have time for you to _utilize_ anything," she said dismissively, beginning to walk away.

"I can walk and talk," Carisi offered, keeping pace with her easily with his long legs. "You can't avoid me forever."

She should have known better: of course he would follow her. Sometimes he was like an annoying little dog with a bone. She kept her gaze straight ahead, only catching sight of him from the very corner of her eye. "Ah, ha, that's where you're wrong, Carisi. If you knew me at all, you'd know that avoiding things is a true talent of mine."

"We really need to talk."

Amanda stopped and turned to look directly at Carisi. "Look, I know I freaked out a few weeks ago. I had too much to drink. I'm sorry if I overreacted." This was the canned excuse she saved for the inevitable moments when she overwhelmed the man in her life. She apologized for her feelings to save theirs, made sure they were aware that she knew she was too much.

"That's not the part I wanted to talk about."

Arms folded over her chest again, Amanda looked at him in silence. His eyes were flickering over her expression like he was trying to interpret something, but years of gambling meant Amanda had perfected a poker face. There was nothing there to see, no matter how hard he searched. It was Amanda who was doing the real observing: Sonny looked so eager, so honest. It was that kind of genuine warmth that made Amanda's heart swell and her skin sprout goosebumps. He had spent so many days making her laugh between tragedies and all those nights giving her the steadiness she never knew she craved. He was a good man and she was a hurricane of a woman; it would be selfish of her to pull him into the eye of her storm... wouldn't it?

She allowed a small smile to come across her lips . Her features were soft now, less defended. "Sonny, I can tell Bridget is a good girl. She's pretty and smart and has it all together. You'd be good for one another."

There was a long pause, the two of them locked in a stare.

"You ever get tired of this bit?" Carisi finally asked, gesturing to her with a wave of his hand.

She furrowed her brow, confused. "What?"

"This 'I'm too fucked up to love' nonsense. It must be exhausting." There was an edge to his tone that she rarely heard outside of work.

Shocked, Amanda felt her cheeks begin to burn as her eyes flitted away from Carisi's gaze. She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but she couldn't seem to get any words to leave her mouth.

He took a step closer to her as he spoke, his voice lower but no less firm. "Y'see, 'Manda, we all have demons. I wish you'd quit actin' like you're the only one, like you're doing the world some kinda favor by never letting anybody in. You're a broken record. Move the needle to a different song, for Christ's sake, or you're gonna end up alone."

Carisi walked away from her, leaving Amanda breathless and stunned on the sidewalk. Pedestrians maneuvered around her as she stood still, her icy exterior melting ever so slightly in the warmth of the spring sun.


	4. Chapter 4

Amanda's knuckles tapped at her lieutenant's office door before carefully letting herself in. "I'm gonna head out, Lieutenant. Anything else you need from me?"

Olivia pulled off her glasses and offered Amanda her familiar, tired smile. "Nice work today, Rollins. Go home, get some rest," she replied with a small flip of her hand.

She nodded and began to turn away, but stopped. Giving in to her curiosity, she asked, "hey, uh, Liv? Where'd Carisi go? I haven't seen him since five."

"He took this case pretty hard, I think. I sent him home to regroup." She eyed Amanda almost suspiciously. "Why?"

Kyle Turner. Amanda had noticed the shift in Carisi's affect after he talked about his own experience with bullying in an attempt to illicit a confession. He hadn't admitted the story was true - but he didn't say it wasn't, either. Carisi was one of the most honest people she knew, so Amanda suspected that he had offered up a truthful piece of himself in the interrogation room that day. She cleared her throat. "No reason. Just wondering. Night, Liv."

"Amanda?"

About to leave, she turned around, looking at Liv expectantly. "Yeah?"

Liv eyed her in silence, appearing as if she wanted to say something. Amanda felt her heartbeat quicken slightly in anticipation, unsure of what her lieutenant was thinking. Their relationship had been rocky at points, mostly due to Amanda's personal struggles, but she had a deep respect for Olivia Benson. She constantly wanted to prove to her that she was level-headed and capable, even if some days it all felt like an act. Finally, Liv shook her head and gave another smile, although this one seemed less genuine than the last. "Nothing, nothing. Get out of here."

Amanda left the squad room feeling slightly on edge. It had been a long day. No, more like a long month. The distance she had created between she and Carisi had only increased after he had told her off that Sunday morning on the sidewalk. This time, though, it wasn't Amanda being cold - the chill was coming from Carisi. His assessment of her had been humbling, to say the least, and it hung in the air between them every time they interacted. He no longer went out of his way to idly chat with her, he didn't show up at her door to offer food and company or text her random facts about teething one year olds. He was simply her colleague again; any attempt on Amanda's part to close the gap between them was met with the politest resistance.

She hugged her jacket close to her in the cool night air. There was only one thing she wanted to do: see him. The farther Carisi drifted from her, the more she yearned to be in his presence. He had spoken the truth that Sunday; somehow he knew her better than any man she had ever dated. Hell, he knew her better than her own family. It terrified her that Carisi had her figured out, but more than anything she hated that the wall she had tirelessly built up was now even too massive for him to climb. He saw her for what she was - selfish, irrational, stubborn - and retreated. In a way, Amanda figured it would have been easier if she could just be pissed off and move on. Instead, this lingered like a strange kind of ache, one similar to loneliness.

 _Nothing changes if nothing changes_ , Gambler's Anonymous would preach to her. It was up to her to demolish the tower of cold concrete that kept her isolated and aloof. Her hand was reaching for her iPhone and pressing his name in her contact list before she could stop herself. As it rang, her heart began to race, part of her hoping he wouldn't pick up. When he did, she had to stop walking, like she needed all her energy to be engaged in the conversation. "Hey."

"Hi. You home?" she asked.

"Yeah... why? Catch another case?"

"No, no, I just left... but, ah, was wondering if you're hungry or anything? I could bring some food by, return the favor for once?"

There was a long pause that incited panic in Amanda immediately. Maybe he lost cell service, or he suddenly died, maybe...

"You didn't cook it, did you?" Carisi's skeptical tone was a relief when it reached her ear.

"No..."

"Alright, sure."

It wasn't the most enthusiastic response, but she would take it over an emphatic _no_ or awkward avoidance. After hanging up, Amanda texted Kim to ask her to hang out with Jesse, which she excitedly agreed to do. She had to admit that her sister was great with her daughter and lately Amanda had been inspired to give her more of a chance. Perhaps it was her attempt at being a little more open, a little more forgiving. Amanda certainly wasn't ready to leave Jesse with her all the time, but here and there Kim had taken the responsibility of watching her niece seriously.

Amanda didn't dare pick up Italian food, so she headed to Carisi's apartment with an assorted bag of Chinese. She didn't let herself think too much about what she was doing and why she was doing it, so when she ended up at his place, she felt totally unprepared. When he pulled open the door, she realized she had been holding her breath.

"Hey, come in," he offered, moving aside so she could enter. He was out of his suit and in a t-shirt and jeans.

Amanda tried to read the expression on his face. He looked tired but otherwise normal. In that moment she opted to pretend nothing had changed between them simply because she she didn't know how to behave any other way. She took off her coat and set down the bag on his coffee table so she could unpack it.

"Wanna beer? Where's Jesse?" he called from the kitchen.

"Yeah, sure. Kim's with her." With the little white boxes set out, she sat down on his couch, legs crossed. She caught herself scanning the area for signs that Bridget had been there, but realized she didn't even know what she was looking for. She picked at the fabric of her dark jeans instead.

Carisi reemerged, looking at Amanda with an eyebrow quirked. He handed her a fork and an open beer bottle - there was no formality required here - and sat down next to her. Not necessarily far away, but definitely not close, either. "Kim? Y'sure that's a good idea?"

Amanda cleared her throat as she set her drink down and reached for the box of sesame noodles. She stuck her fork inside so she could focus her gaze somewhere other than on Carisi. "Yeah. She's been doing really well with her lately and... I'm trying this new thing where I... trust a little more. Give people more credit," she explained slowly.

"How's that workin' out for ya?"

There was an edge of sarcasm in Carisi's voice that she hadn't expected. She felt like all of her flaws were captured in a big, red sign, blinking garishly above her head in his living room. Her instinct was to recoil, run, cut him off at the pass so he didn't get to toy with the most vulnerable parts of her again. She chewed the inside of her cheek, the self-inflicted pain grounding her slightly. "Okay so far."

She looked up from the noodles she had been so intently staring at to find Carisi eyeing her. His brow was knitted together like he was trying to figure out a challenging math problem without a calculator. "Why are you here, Amanda?" he finally asked her after a few beats of silence.

Before Amanda could answer, her phone rang in the back pocket of her jeans. Instinctively she put down what she was pretending to eat so she could answer it. Carisi looked unfazed, as this was their normal: chained to their cell phones, waiting to be summoned. It wasn't Liv or Fin, though. It was Kim.

"Kim? What's up?" Amanda asked.

"Amanda! Amanda, I... I don't know what happened!" Kim's voice was frantic. "All of a sudden Jesse started getting fussy, she didn't want to eat or move and she was so warm. Then she started coughin' and I think she's having a hard time breathing, her little chest is goin' up and down so hard-"

She felt the blood drain from her face, her free hand automatically gripping Carisi's forearm that had been draped across the top of the couch, like she needed to steady herself. He looked at her with a combination of confusion and concern, but Amanda's focus wasn't on how he was receiving her anymore. "What? What do you mean? Damnit, Kim, I leave you alone with her for a couple of hours and-" she shook her head, trying to organize her racing thoughts. This probably wasn't Kim's fault, but in Amanda's panic she needed a target and her sister was always an easy one. She leapt up from the couch with the phone pressed tight to her ear. She tried to keep her voice calm, to channel the seasoned detective who could navigate any crisis smoothly, but this was her daughter, the very best part of her. This was more important than anything. "Take her to Presbyterian! I'm coming right now."

"I know! I know! I've got her, I'm going now. I'm going right now!" Kim exclaimed.

Amanda hung up the phone with trembling fingers. She almost forgot where she was or that Carisi was there as she moved toward her coat.

"What's goin' on? What's wrong with Jesse?" he asked her, getting up from his seat.

"I don't know. Kim said she's not eating and she's having trouble breathing and she's taking her to the hospital," Amanda babbled.

"I'm goin' with you." Carisi grabbed his keys off the table and his coat from the rack.

Too distracted to argue, Amanda let him lead the way.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Thanks so much for the continued interest, guys! Always open for feedback and suggestions.

* * *

They were greeted by a frazzled-looking Kim. Worry was plastered all over her face as she tried to explain the series of events that had led them all there. Amanda took in bits and pieces of her story - trouble breathing, limp, blue fingernails - but was all the while hyper-aware of Jesse's absence. It was just Kim, standing in the hallway of the hospital empty-handed.

"Where is she?" Amanda demanded of her sister.

"I don't know! They took her from me the second I got here!"

This was an unacceptable answer. Amanda wasted no time charging over to the large, circular nurse's station. She felt Kim and Carisi's presence behind her but her eyes were on the first person she could identify as an employee. "Jesse Rollins. I'm her mother. Where is she?" she asked the young woman in purple scrubs urgently.

The nurse looked up from her computer, her expression unflinchingly benign. "X-ray."

"Where is that? Can I see her?"

"Fifth floor. Probably not now, no."

 _Probably not now, no._ Any semblance of calm Amanda was holding on to slipped away at the nurse's casual dismissal. Her tone was bored and mildly irritated, as if being inconvenienced by such a petty request. Amanda wasn't asking for a reservation at a restaurant or a sweater in a different size - she was in an emergency room, desperate for information about her one-year-old daughter. For someone typically outspoken and bold, Amanda found herself momentarily speechless.

Carisi had moved next to her, leaning the long line of his body slightly over the desk that separated them from the nurse. His voice was low but threatening as his eyes bore into the woman tapping away at her keyboard. "Look, I know she's just a patient to you and you're at the end of your shift, but she's somebody's kid. So why don't you get off Facebook or Tinder or whatever the hell it is you guys waste time with these days and get the doc over here so we can get some answers."

Amanda watched as the nurse flushed slightly and sat up straighter in her chair. Wordlessly she got up and walked away, disappearing into an area of the emergency room none of them could see. Moments later she reappeared with an older man in a distinctive white coat. Instead of hiding behind the desk, he walked right up to them. Amanda tried to read his face for any signs of sadness or distress, but figured that much like in her profession, they were trained not to emote much.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rollins, I'm Dr. Andrews," the physician began. "I suspect Jesse has bacterial pneumonia, given the sudden severity of her symptoms. Right now we are working on reducing her fever, giving her oxygen and getting some x-rays of her lungs, so we know how to proceed. If it is bacterial, she's going to need a course of IV antibiotics."

Too focused on the rest of his explanation, Amanda didn't even notice that the doctor mistook she and Carisi for husband and wife. "What does that mean? Is she going to be okay?" she asked anxiously. "Can I see her?"

"It means we'll have to admit her for a few days. Bacterial pneumonia is treatable but it's pretty dangerous for little ones with developing lungs, so we have to get aggressive," Dr. Andrews clarified. "But you need to give us some time. Right now I need you to wait while we get the tests sorted. The nurse will come get you when we have Jesse stable and settled."

Amanda felt like her stomach was filled with lead. If only she could see Jesse. If only she could know that her little girl's eyes were still bright and wide and curious. If only she could scoop her up and hold her close and reassure her _mama's here_ amid a sea of strange faces. Every bone in Amanda's body was aching for even the smallest shred of control, but the frightening truth was that she had none.

* * *

The waiting room they were escorted to was bright, colorful and empty. All Amanda could think about was how lucky all the other parents in the world were to be at home with their children, far away from the forced institutional cheerfulness that inevitably made one become more aware of their own sadness. Kim went out to smoke, which Amanda would have done, too, if Carisi hadn't been there. Instead she dropped down onto a large couch, making her body as small as possible as she curled her knees up to her chest.

"I'm not takin' your last name," Carisi broke the silence as he sat next to her.

"Huh?"

He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees and hands clasped loosely. He looked over at her with a small, sheepish smile. "The doctor called us _Mr. and Mrs. Rollins._ This is 2017, I'm not changin' my last name."

Typical Carisi: he could inject a little humor into any scenario. And there he was, despite all of their struggles, trying to make her laugh even now. He had succeeded, a little chuckle bubbling up from her in spite of it all - until she was crying. The hot tears burned her eyes and slid down Amanda's cheeks freely; she made no attempt to stop them. She wasn't used to feeling afraid - or at least showing it - but Jesse was her weakness. From the moment she was born, that baby had awakened emotions in Amanda that she didn't know she was capable of experiencing. When it came to her daughter, her love for her was all-consuming.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. They are gonna take good care of her. The doctor said it was treatable," Carisi reminded her, sitting up.

Her tears dripped onto the tops of her knees as she continued to hold them close. She shook her head. She had heard what the doctor had said, but her fear around Jesse's current medical issue wasn't the sole reason why she was crying. She couldn't wrap her mind around it: how could someone so pure and small be made to suffer so much, while Amanda remained perfectly healthy in the wake of all of her transgressions? "She's the best part of me, Sonny. She's everything that's good and innocent and... I don't know how she came from me but I wish I could take her place. I deserve to be in her place."

Carisi angled his body toward hers, his hand finding its way onto Amanda's back. His voice was gentler as he told her, "you're thinkin' about this the wrong way, 'Manda. This isn't a punishment; God doesn't give us more than we can handle. He made Jesse a tough little girl. I know that because, remember when she was born? She had to put up a hell of a fight to be a part of this world and she did it."

She used the heels of her palms to roughly wipe her eyes, unable to suppress the instinct to cover up any sign that she was vulnerable. His hand on her back felt warm and reassuring, just like his words. He didn't move it right away, even when they sat in silence for a few moments. She released an audible exhale, steadying herself. "You were right, what you said about me that weekend. You were right about me," Amanda finally admitted.

He shifted in his seat. "I was kinda harsh. I shouldn't have..."

Meeting his eyes, Amanda shook her head. Carisi was searching her face again,as he often did. This time, though, she didn't look away or try to arrange her expression. "You were honest. I know that I keep people at an arm's length - kept you at an arm's length. I haven't been real with you - with anyone - for a long time."

"So be real with me now."

What was she protecting so fiercely all the time? If she shed the strong exterior and let her guard down, how could she satisfy what was hiding underneath? In that moment, she didn't have the energy to keep the fragile pieces of herself from rising to the surface - or perhaps she finally realized that with Sonny Carisi, she didn't need to. Amanda shifted close to him, leaning into his side so her head could rest against his shoulder. She felt his arm slide easily around her, the sturdiness of his body allowing her own to relax. This was her wordless reply.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:** The last of what I've got for now - more next week!

* * *

"Sign here, here and here."

The nurse left Amanda standing with a stack of paperwork. In fairness, she had peppered the woman with incessant questions the moment Jesse had been moved to the 7th floor Infectious Diseases unit, so Amanda didn't blame her for making a hasty exit. Amanda thought it would be more reassuring to finally lay eyes on her daughter, but it turned out it was just a new kind of unsettling. There was nothing comforting about seeing a one-year-old attached to tubes and wires, her little body flushed and hot from fever and the effort to breathe. Doctors had determined the cause of Jesse's illness was indeed bacterial pneumonia, meaning she had to be admitted for IV antibiotics. They were hopeful she would make a full recovery. The floor she was transferred to several hours ago was quiet, but there was a heaviness that filled the halls that could only be attributed to a place that housed sick kids and despondent parents.

The room they put Jesse in was large and modern, clearly intended for long-term residents. Jesse drifted off to sleep in the institutional crib easily, sedated by the medications now running through her tiny veins. In an effort to preserve some of her sanity, Amanda eventually sent Kim home, her well-intended nervous energy too much for her to deal with given the circumstances. When summoned for paperwork, Amanda left Carisi by Jesse's side as he worked on his second crossword puzzle of the night.

Amanda scribbled her signature across all the documents she was left with, her eyes trying to blink all the small print into focus. She was tired but too anxious to contemplate rest. She flipped through the papers one final time before handing them to the person sitting behind the nurses' station. Running her fingers through her messy hair, she walked back toward Jesse's room. What she saw from the doorway stopped her in her tracks: Carisi had abandoned his newspaper to sit in the seat by Jesse's crib, a hand slipped between the bars so the little girl's tiny fingers could wrap around one of his larger ones. Even in the dim lighting, she could see that he was watching her daughter, his expression tired but unmistakably adoring. Amanda felt her heart swell so intensely in her chest that she could have sworn her ribs would crack.

"You're so lucky." A female voice snapped her out of her reverie.

Amanda turned to see a young female nurse hugging an arm full of blankets to her chest. She was smiling kindly, even when Amanda was too caught off guard to respond with more than a stare.

"Your husband," the nurse clarified, adjusting what she was carrying. "He's so good with her. Some guys come in here and fall to pieces, act like they don't know which way is up. The mothers are left trying to navigate all this. But he seems so steady." With another warm grin, she continued to make her way down the hallway.

Amanda rubbed her eyes and shook her head, like she was trying to clear the clutter there. She made her way quietly into the room, pausing to hover over Jesse's crib for a moment before sinking onto the near-by couch.

"Hey. She hasn't made a peep since you've been gone. They must have her pretty zonked," Carisi told her, his voice low.

"Mm. High as a kite," Amanda agreed wistfully as she angled her body so she could lean her back into the corner of the couch, her tired legs stretching out on the cushions.

Carisi got up, carefully freeing himself from Jesse's grasp. He sat down by Amanda's feet and asked her with a little smirk, "you jealous?"

"Nah. Not my substance of choice," Amanda quipped, resting her elbow on the arm of the couch and her head in her hand as she watched Carisi.

"Ah, right."

She narrowed her gaze, suddenly curious. "Freaks you out, huh?"

"What does?"

"My gambling."

Carisi shifted in his seat, brow furrowed. "You forget what we do for a livin', Rollins? Takes a lot more than that to freak me out."

She gave a nod, wearing a small, amused smile. God, she was exhausted, but somehow this felt better than obsessing over Jesse's oxygen saturation levels. This felt... normal.

"But uh, I do wonder," he continued, looking away from her. "I mean... why do you like it? Or, why did you?"

She stayed quiet for what felt like a long time, silently weighing her options. She could brush him off as she had so many times before - or she could do something different and stick to her word, be real instead of so damn closed off all of the time. Amanda studied him, reflecting on their current situation: the two of them alone with her child in a dark hospital room, Sonny Carisi very much not obligated to be anywhere but his warm, comfortable bed. In that moment she realized that maybe he deserved a bit more of her than she had previously been willing to give. "When I was a kid, my best memories were always when my daddy won big. Man, we got everything, me and Kim. My mom, too, of course. But it wasn't just about the stuff. He was so happy. On top of the world. There was this... lightness in our house when he was on a winning streak." Her voice was tired but she could feel herself smiling at the memories she was conjuring.

"What about when he lost?" he asked her dryly, shifting his gaze back to her again.

The warmth that had been spreading in her chest was gone just as quickly as it arrived. She looked over at Jesse's crib, her baby girl still lost in drug-induced slumber. "Then it all went to hell. He'd start lying, yelling about everything, borrowin' money from these shady people who'd come to our house in the middle of the night, threatenin' him, us... lost his job more times than I can count..."

Carisi's response was to give her a look of sheer confusion.

She sat up straighter, lifting her head up from her palm. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'then why does anybody do this stuff?' It's not that simple. It's like his brain -" she paused, then started up again, eyes darting away from Carisi's, "- my brain skips over all the bad parts. It's like this tape that just keeps playing and playing and it's so loud. Louder than everything - your work, your family, all of it. And this tape, it fast forwards over all the consequences, only has you reliving how good it feels to win. It never really turns off, just kinda... lurks, waiting. Waiting for a moment you're sad or pissed off or happy or anything - any reason is an excuse to listen to it. It's constant noise."

The silence that followed her honesty made Amanda itchy. Everybody she worked with knew about her gambling addiction, but the only person she had talked about it with in any kind of detail was Fin. Even then, she omitted a lot, especially in regards to her father and childhood. Carisi had siphoned more out of her in fifteen minutes than any of her other colleagues had in years - but then again, none of them had ever made her feel quite so safe.

"That's not what I was thinkin'. I was thinkin'..." Carisi began slowly, resting a hand atop Amanda's outstretched shin. "It's pretty obvious where Jesse gets her fight from."

She scrunched her nose, her automatic response to object to anything even resembling a compliment, but she didn't want him to pull away. His thumb moved seemingly absently over the fabric of her jeans; back and forth, back and forth. She was content to sit like that for awhile, neither of them speaking, the only sounds the whirls and beeps coming from the various machines in Jesse's room. Every now and then her eyes would flicker closed, only to open again to make sure his hand was still on her leg. Amanda caught herself imagining what it'd feel like to have those fingers in her hair instead, the rhythmic movements lulling her to sleep, reminding her she wasn't alone in the dark.


	7. Chapter 7

"When are you gonna quit doin' this?" Kim asked her sister.

She looked like a little kid, standing in the living room with her arms crossed over her chest and lower lip in a pout as she eyed Amanda moving around the kitchen.

"When I can trust you to do it yourself," Amanda answered simply, shaking out another capsule into her palm. With a fistful of Kim's medications, she walked over to her with a glass of water in her other hand. She presented both to her sister with an over-exaggerated grin in hopes of lightening the mood.

With a scowl, Kim snatched the glass and the pills from Amanda. "I'm not a baby. I've been doin' good."

"And I want you to keep doing good. So take your meds and go to work."

"Why, you got company comin' over? You tryin' to get rid of me?"

"Kim," Amanda began to raise her voice. _I can't get rid of you, I can never get rid of you. And now you live on my couch_ , she wanted to spit at her sister, but controlled herself. With her voice lower, she continued, "you're gonna be late. With your record, this job is a gift."

"It's a diner, 'Manda. It's nothing special, not like _your_ job." Kim stormed away, slamming the bedroom door behind her. She emerged moments later with her purse and coat in hand, glowering at her older sister before leaving the apartment.

Amanda exhaled and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Jesse had been out of the hospital for three weeks now, but that hardly meant her life was stress-free. Kim was like her second child; she worried about nothing, so Amanda worried about everything. The longer Kim stayed on the right track, the more anxious her older sister became. It wasn't that she wasn't glad that Kim was making an effort to turn her life around, it was that she was programmed to always anticipate an impending catastrophe. Amanda often felt like she was fighting a daily battle against her own brain to change her perspective - and sometimes, inevitably, she lost.

There was a knock at her front door. "It's open," Amanda called, knowing who was on the other side of it.

"Hey, what's up with Kim? She practically steamrolled me tryin' to get out the front door," Carisi asked as he walked in.

"She's pissed off at me 'cause I'm still doling out her meds and I was on her about getting to work on time," she explained dryly.

"Well maybe you should loosen up a bit."

Amanda could only look at him in disbelief.

Bravely, Carisi continued, "I'm just sayin', Amanda. She's doin' okay. Checkin' in with her PO, testin' clean, lookin' for her own place..."

"That's what she _does_ , Carisi! For a little while. Then the next thing I know she's blowing lines off my coffee table with a couple of dudes from the Bowery Mission and I'm losing my shield again!" she exclaimed, exasperated.

"Okay, okay," he resigned, holding his hands up in a sign of defeat as he walked over to Jesse's pack-n-play. He easily lifted the little girl out of it and put her in the stroller waiting near by. "Let's just go eat some pancakes. Nothin' they can't fix."

* * *

The pancakes were, in fact, helpful. Carisi was wise enough to abandon the subject of Kim while they ate breakfast; it was Sunday and things were good. The sunshine and bright blue sky made it difficult to be anything other than present, and Carisi always had a quiet way of reminding Amanda to stay grateful. Grateful for her healthy daughter, for her career, for sticky-sweet syrup and coffee with too much cream, for his companionship.

After they left the restaurant, Amanda pushed Jesse's stroller to the park with Carisi keeping stride next to her, both adults navigating the city through dark Ray Ban lenses. The park was understandably busy, parents and caretakers eager to bring their kids outside to rid them of excess energy. Finding a bench to sit at was a little like stalking a seat at the bar on a Saturday night, but after some lurking, they were able to secure a place to settle down. Jesse toddled around in the near-by sand before finding a satisfactory spot to arrange her toys under Amanda and Carisi's watchful eye. She babbled to herself happily if left alone or participated curiously if another toddler joined in, even though the concept of sharing was still a novel one.

Carisi's long arms stretched across the back of the bench. "I know Kim's put you through hell."

That was putting it lightly. Carisi hadn't been around when Kim had set her up to shoot Jeff, had her incarcerated for her own financial gain and almost destroyed her career. He had heard about it, sure, but she imagined the retelling was much different than actually watching one's coworker get arrested for murder in the squad room. Maybe one day she would talk about it in more detail with him, but not now. It was almost as if Amanda was afraid that if she said the words out loud, the forces at work in the universe would realize she was overdue for a similar type of chaos. She took her eyes off of her daughter momentarily to look over at Carisi sitting beside her. "I want to believe that my sister is doing the right thing, Sonny. Through all of it, I've loved her. I hope that counts for something."

"It counts for a lot," he responded simply with a little, knowing smile.

Maybe he knew the topic was too sensitive, because he didn't press Amanda any further. Again, she was grateful.

"Whoa, whoa, Jesse! We do _not_ throw rocks," Carisi exclaimed, on his feet to scoop Jesse up just as she was about to gleefully hurl a stone she discovered while digging.

Amanda couldn't help but laugh; sometimes Carisi played the role of anxious parent so much better than she did. She secretly hoped that her daughter's aim would some day be as good as her own; her marksmanship was a point of pride for her.

"Amanda?" A male voice cut through the lighthearted sounds of the playground.

Smiling, Amanda shifted her gaze from Carisi and Jesse to see a familiar figure standing before her: Nick Amaro, hand-in-hand in with his daughter Zara. Her breath caught in her chest at the sight of a man she hadn't seen in what felt like forever. He looked good: tanned, relaxed, happy. He had the same big, brown eyes that used to steal glances at her across the squad room. He was wearing the familiar, lopsided little smile that she used to find so infuriatingly attractive.

"Nick? Nick! What are you doing here?" Amanda asked eagerly, practically leaping up from her seat to give him a hug.

"Zara's on vacation, we're here for the week, seeing my mom," Nick explained as he met her embrace. He pulled away after a moment, studying her, then looked over at his daughter and suggested, "Zara... go show us how good you are on the monkey bars." As Zara sprinted away, Nick said to Amanda, "You look great."

"You do, too," she responded almost bashfully.

"Wow, Jesse is so big," Nick observed, looking over Amanda's shoulder. With a smirk and a little up-nod, he said, "Carisi, a baby's a good accessory for you. You take Barba's job yet?"

"Nah, not yet," Amanda heard Carisi respond. She had almost forgotten he was there, holding her daughter, bearing witness to this interaction.

"You two taking a break from a case...?" Nick asked Amanda curiously, looking between his two former colleagues.

"Oh, uh, yeah. We are. I'm pulling some OT and figured it'd be a late night so I wanted to see her for a little bit before we headed back to the squad." The lie left her mouth with frightening ease. But why? She had let Nick leave for California without comment or complaint, spoke to him on the phone sporadically feigning interest in the progression of his career. She had quickly come to terms with the fact that he had only ever wanted her because he got off on saving broken women, and God, had she been in pieces. He shed a glaring light on her irrationality: she hated that he coddled her but felt rejected when he turned cold. He was aggressive, stubborn, controlling... if she was truly practicing gratitude these days, Amanda should have been thankful that Nick moved away. Even so, her heart skipped a beat as he stood before her, reminded of the passion they had shared. Like gambling, Nick used to make her feel good - if only for a little while.

"Dad, you're not even looking!" Zara shrieked from the monkey bars.

"Ah, look. I gotta get back to her. But it's really good seeing you. I'll try and stop by the squad this week and say hi to everybody," Nick assured her. He looked over at Carisi as he began to walk away, like an afterthought. "See ya, Carisi."

"What the hell was that?" Carisi demanded once Nick was out of earshot, adjusting Jesse against his side.

Amanda did her best to play dumb. "What? He bought it."

"Yeah, I know he bought it. You could sell ketchup popsicles to a lady wearin' white gloves, Rollins. But why'd you give him that story?" he pressed her further, a shadow crossing his face that let Amanda know he wasn't pleased.

"It's just easier this way," Amanda replied lightly, adjusting the hem of Jesse's top unnecessarily before pulling her from Carisi's arms. She gave the side of her daughter's head a kiss before setting her back down in the sand gently.

"Is somethin' still goin' on between you two?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, a hand straying up to the front of her shoulder so her fingers could absently rub the scar there. It was a nervous habit: since she had been shot, she toyed with the fading mark whenever she felt the urge to fidget. "From the other side of the country, Carisi? Come on," Amanda scoffed, looking up at him with the most convincing look of confusion she could muster. After a moment, she softened her expression, guilt creeping in. "It's none of his business, that's all."

He mirrored her stance, looking skeptical. "Yeah, okay."

"You don't believe me?"

"You're very astute," he remarked sarcastically.

His distrust of her made her more nervous than Nick's cameo appearance, perhaps indicating that Carisi's opinion of her was more valuable than anything. Now she felt foolish and immature. Amanda took a step closer to Carisi, reaching out to gently rest a hand on one of his crossed arms. "Look, I've lied to a lot of people in the past but... I swear it, Sonny, I've never lied to you," she told him, her tone low and private. She offered him a small, timid smile. "The 'keeping up appearances' thing, it's a bad habit. So just give me some time to... work on this ' being real' thing instead, okay? Please?"

Amanda could see the wheels in his head turning, but watched with relief as he slowly returned her smile. He nodded.

Again, she was grateful.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:** As usual, thanks so much for the continued interest. More to be revealed toward the end of the week. :) Feedback/suggestions always welcome!

* * *

Amanda allowed Nick to take her out to dinner.

He had put her on the spot. Nick returned to SVU like the prodigal son, everyone eager to hear about his job in California and to complain to him about what had and hadn't changed in New York City. With an audience, he had hovered over Amanda's desk and suggested dinner; she felt like everybody's eyes were burning holes in her as they waited for her reply. Accepting and declining both felt like different kinds of awkward to Amanda, but ultimately she agreed to go because a part of her wanted to. Nick still made her pulse race, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

They met at a Midtown Italian restaurant which was just a little too dark and cozy for her comfort. Even when they were sleeping together, they didn't _date._ It was all physical, a warm body to curl up next to when everything else was going to hell - no white table cloth necessary. In an attempt to be more open, Amanda tried not to read too much into the location. They both liked lasagna - it really wasn't that big of a deal.

The meal was delicious and the conversation smooth. Amanda got a sick kind of rush from the edge of arrogance in Nick's voice as he talked about his work on the west coast; she had always been attracted to power, or at least the implication of it. Over a year ago, Amanda had followed his ego straight to bed. To Nick, she had been everything that his ex-wife Maria wasn't: impulsive, passionate, fueled by her demons. It had been an explosive combination. She thought that the dust had settled with time and distance, but over dinner she found herself hoping that even if their separate worlds had changed, maybe Nick would see something new in her that he could appreciate.

A half-eaten square of tiramisu eventually sat in the center of the table, each of them occasionally dipping into it with their fork for a bite.

"So, you've told me all about work, about Kim and Jesse... how've _you_ been doing?" Nick asked her.

Amanda shrugged her shoulders with a little smile and tucked a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear. "I told you, things are good. I'm good."

"You look tired."

She quirked an eyebrow, her fork paused in mid-air. "I have a one and a half year old, work sixty hours a week and run five miles a day, Nick. That tends to happen."

"You sure...?" he trailed off, eyeing her like a concerned parent assesses a suspicious teenager.

Amanda understood what he was implying by the look on his face. It was _his look._ The one that never failed to remind her that he was the savior, she was the one in desperate need of saving. She set her fork down to rest on the edge of the plate, suddenly no longer interested in dessert. "Are you asking about my gambling?"

"I just wanna be sure you're okay."

She moved so her back was pressed up against the cushion of the booth, like she was trying to create as much space between them as possible. "Amazing," she murmured, shaking her head in disbelief and crossing her arms over her chest. "After all this time, you're still checkin' up on me. Are you capable of doing anything else?"

"I know how stress can trig-"

"I am not _stressed_. I've been feeling pretty damn good. A lot has changed since you left, you know!" she exclaimed truthfully. She pulled in a breath as she stared at him across the table. Her eyes narrowed and her expression shifted from hurt to almost victorious as something in her head clicked: Nick tethered her to everything she disliked about herself. It would always be that way, because he needed her wounded. He would never be interested in the present version of Amanda - only the broken woman he had left behind. She lowered her voice, her tone tinged with amused astonishment, "you hate that, don't you? You'd prefer me miserable."

"Oh, c'mon, Amanda, I-"

"That's why you wanted to have dinner, huh? Make sure I'm still as fucked up as you left me?" She grabbed her purse so she could fish around inside for her wallet. Standing up, she tossed a wad of cash on the table - there was no way she was letting him pay. She didn't want to owe him anything anymore. Not a single thing. "Just so you're aware, there's a lot more to me than my mistakes. Shame you'll never get to figure that out for yourself."

She burst out of the front doors of the restaurant into the humid evening air. With Nick, she would always be a prisoner of her past. Without him, she was free.

* * *

Smiling, Amanda ran. She darted through throngs of natives and tourists alike as they enjoyed the summer evening, her extensive experience with the New York City grid system making it easy for her to know exactly where she was going. She felt lighter than usual, like whatever she had been carrying around she had abandoned in the seat across from Nick.

He was exactly where he told her he would be that night: Bravest sports bar on 2nd Ave, between 38th street and the Queens Midtown tunnel. Of course he was, because Sonny Carisi was honest and genuine and _real_. From the doorway, Amanda spotted him sitting at the bar across the room. He had a beer in his hand, his body relaxed against the back of the stool he was perched on, laughing about something with his friends between glances at the television mounted on the wall. For a moment she considered fleeing, using the energy that had propelled her there to escape before he ever caught sight of her...

"Sonny!" she called breathlessly, waving her hand in an attempt to get his attention. She moved through the crowd murmuring little apologies to anybody in her path, "hey... oops, sorry...'scuse me..."

"Hey!" Amanda maneuvered her petite frame in between bar stools to be at Carisi's side, unconcerned with the person next to him who she had her back to. There wasn't much space, but Amanda held her ground. Carisi gawked at her, bewildered to the point of speechlessness. "I just had dinner with Nick and it was awful," Amanda explained, short of breath from her sprint and her excitement. "I just had to tell you because I had to thank you."

He eyed her with an even deeper look of confusion. His gaze wandered around the bar, like he was trying to assess whether or not this was real life, then settled back on Amanda. "Thank me? For a crappy dinner with Amaro...?"

"No! No," she laughed, as if _he_ was the crazy one for not understanding her reasoning. "For all those times you've reminded me that things can change and that I'm good and deserving and..." Her chest was visibly rising and falling and her heart beat quickening despite the fact that she had stopped running. Words had never been her strong suit, but in that moment it was a special challenge for Amanda to verbalize what was making her pulse pound.

Rising up on her toes, she closed the small space between their bodies, rested a hand against Sonny Carisi's cheek and kissed him. It was as if her tongue knew that it couldn't possibly produce any words that would express anything in a more effective way than this. He tasted like beer but the alcohol couldn't mask the warm familiarity that Amanda craved. She was oblivious to his friends watching with wide-eyed puzzlement or to the televised baseball game blaring stats that she once would have killed to bet on. He didn't attempt to push her way or ask questions; he met her mouth like he had been waiting for it.

"I gotta get home... Jesse..." she finally murmured against his lips. "Have fun with your friends." She pulled away slowly to blink his face into focus, wearing a small, impish smile. Her hand drifted from his face, lingered on his bicep as she gradually slid away from the bar to make her exit. With fingertips still barely grazing his forearm, she offered, "come over later, if you want."

Amanda turned and disappeared into the crowd without another word, her palm pressed tight over her mouth as if she wanted to keep her grin all to herself.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:** A little foreshadowing, a little fluff. More this weekend, depending on how much editing I get done!

* * *

The sound of muffled gunshots echoed in her ears.

Sometimes when her gun was in her hand, Amanda saw Jeff's face. Even despite the time that had passed, the image was sharp and clear and afraid. He was waving his arms around, sputtering pleas of innocence, unknowingly tangled in Kim's web. She shot him dead on her living room floor. _He was a bad man,_ Kim had told her. _It was a good shoot,_ Captain Cragen had reminded her. _By the book, s_ aid Benson. The psychologist had wanted to talk about feelings, but Amanda asserted she didn't have any. She preferred to fight her battles in private: to this day she was still trying to scrub Jeff's blood off of her hands, her skin raw from a futile effort to absolve herself of sin.

Bullets ripped through her target until a high-pitched whistle indicated to Amanda and the other detectives to cease fire. She pulled off her goggles and let the headphones rest around her neck as she stood obediently in her Plexiglas stall, waiting to be judged by their long-time firearms instructor, Carlos. In unison, the row of targets slid toward them, making them easier to see. They were faceless silhouettes printed on canvas - not Jeff.

Carlos moved down the line of detectives and assessed their work: "Nice job, Lieutenant, as expected," he said to Olivia. He moved on to Fin with a little smirk, "Fin, rein it in a little, okay?" Next, "Carisi, nice center mass grouping."

He paused by Amanda's target, eyeing the holes all clustered exactly in the center of the silhouette's torso. With a small, satisfied grin, Carlos announced, "Rollins... still our resident Annie Oakley."

Amanda suppressed the proud smile that was tugging at her lips and gave a little nod of 'thanks' instead. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carisi give her a wink.

After their training day concluded, Amanda followed Olivia into the women's locker room so they could collect their belongings and head home. After a little small talk, they all parted ways. With her gun and her badge still on her hip, Amanda stepped out into the cool evening air. Fall was her favorite season. She liked watching the bright green leaves turn shades of warm red and orange then flutter peacefully to the ground; nature's way of letting go.

"Hey, Annie, wait up!" Fin's voice called to her.

She turned around to see her partner jogging toward her. "Yeah?"

"Lemme walk you to the subway," he offered, hands in the pockets of his jacket as he made a few big strides to be at her side.

"Such a gentleman," Amanda remarked with a smirk.

"I know, I know." After a few beats of silence, Fin observed a bit too casually, "nice night, huh?"

"Fin. What are you after?" she chuckled, not believing his sudden interest in the weather.

"I gotta ask you somethin'."

"Yeah? Go ahead."

"Promise not to shoot me?"

"Oh, you know I can never promise that."

"There somethin' goin' on between you and Carisi?"

Amanda felt her cheeks begin to burn; she hoped the color was masked by the lack of light. "Why d'you ask?"

"I saw you two. At Ashton's after work the other night."

She kept her eyes focused straight ahead. "So? You and me get drinks together after shifts all the time. We all do."

"Yeah, but usually when we get drinks, my hand isn't on your ass."

She pressed her lips together.

"Look, Amanda," Fin said, taking hold of her arm gently to stop her on the sidewalk. "I'm not here to judge you. You already know I've never liked the idea of takin' anybody from this job home with me, just not my thing. Do what you gotta do. Carisi's a good dude. Talks a little too much, but still a good dude. I'm just sayin', you're great cop and a great mom. So just... don't lose your head over this."

"You done, dad?" she asked sarcastically.

"I'm done."

She could have used this opportunity to remind Fin how much she hated being coddled, how it was none of his business who she drank or ate or slept with. In fairness, when Fin was concerned, he had a way of letting her know it that never made her feel smothered or inadequate. He had seen her through all of her struggles since she first set foot in New York City. If Amanda was going to listen to anybody, it would be Fin.

Amanda smiled. "Good. I hope you parked near by, 'cause like the gentleman you are, now you're gonna give me a ride home."

* * *

"I met a guy."

Stretched out on her bed, Jesse between them, Amanda looked over at Kim. She was leaned back against a pile of pillows, eyeing her older sister almost bashfully. It was a rare, quiet Wednesday night. The air outside was getting colder, but they were warm and relaxed as they watched The Voice in Amanda's bedroom. Kim's confession came during a commercial break, catching Amanda off guard.

She tossed a piece of the popcorn they were sharing to Frannie, who was laying on the floor. Amanda's first reaction to Kim's statement was to explode; her relationship history wasn't exactly exemplary. Then again, neither was Amanda's. In an attempt to be open-minded, she managed a casual "oh?" despite her quickly rising anxiety. She wished this was an average conversation between two sisters, but given Kim's past, it was far from it.

"Yeah. He's real sweet. A gentleman," Kim responded eagerly, most likely energized by the fact that her sister didn't immediately bite her head off.

She'd heard that before; Jeff had been a 'gentleman' once, too. "Where did you meet this guy?" Amanda asked carefully, trying to keep the skepticism out of her tone.

"At a meeting. I already know what you're gonna say-"

"-that it's a terrible idea to date people you meet in meetings?" Been there, done that. The thought of Nate still made her stomach turn. She tossed Frannie another kernel.

"He's different, 'Manda. Really. He's so attentive, so interested in my life."

"You certainly have had a fascinating one..."

"'Manda, please," Kim pleaded, obviously noting her sister's sarcasm. "I think I really found a good one. He's even helping me get a room at a sober house. I want you to meet him soon, and he wants to meet you."

Amanda kept quiet, eyes drifting to Jesse who was happily gnawing on a teething toy. There were so many things she wanted to say to Kim, so many glaring concerns. _Loosen up a little,_ she could hear Carisi suggesting. Amanda bit the inside of her cheek like that would keep her thoughts safely behind her teeth. "Be careful."

"You're such a worrywart. I'm startin' over, 'Manda. Startin' fresh. I wanna make a good life here."

From the television, the familiar chords from the beginning of Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" began to play. A male contestant began to sing.

"It's a sign! C'mon, dance with me!" Kim exclaimed, scrambling up from her place on Amanda's bed. She snatched a hair brush from the dresser to use as a microphone. "I know you know all the words!"

"Kim, c'mon. A 'sign'?" Amanda rolled her eyes.

Kim didn't care. She grabbed at her older sister's arm, tugging her up from the bed. She began to dramatically sing along to the lyrics into the hair brush, dancing and swinging Amanda's arm around until she finally joined her. In that moment, Amanda was tired of being the pillar of strength and reason. She gave in, goofy and enthusiastic, singing in perfectly imperfect unison with Kim. Jesse began to giggle from her spot on the bed, aware enough to appreciate the rare levity that had suddenly filled the room.

* * *

"Kim met a guy."

Amanda was laying on her stomach on Sonny Carisi's mattress in a too-big Fordam University t-shirt and her underwear, her legs swaying lazily behind her, her chin resting atop her arms. She watched as he stood in the kitchen in his surprisingly spacious studio apartment assembling them warm apple cider and bourbon, because that was what she had been in the mood for that night. She eyed the lean muscles in his shoulders and back moving beneath his navy blue NYPD shirt as he hovered by the stove. This was what they did now: stole hours together in the dark. It happened seemingly in an instant after one sticky summer evening when Amanda patched up her old wounds enough to let him lay his hands on all the places in between.

"Yeah? Good for her," Carisi remarked, still turned away from her.

"She doesn't exactly have a good track record with men," Amanda reminded him.

"She's wacky, yeah, but maybe she's found someone as crazy as she is and it'll be a match made in heaven," he reasoned as he poured the spiked cider into two separate mugs.

She exhaled to move her unruly blonde bangs out of her eyes. "That's my fear."

"He can't be as bad as Jeff. I didn't even meet Jeff and I know he sucked."

"I guess I could always shoot this guy, too," she joked dryly.

Carisi moved to stand over her, offering her a mug of warm liquid. "You act like you murdered him."

"I sort of did," Amanda said, taking the mug between her two palms and sitting up so she could bring it to her mouth.

He sat down on the bed, back leaned lazily against the headboard, his long legs clad in gray sweatpants stretched out in front of him. "You did what you had to do for your sister. She set you up."

God, if she had a dollar for every time somebody had said that to her... "Yeah, I know, it's just..."

"You gotta stop policin' her, Amanda. She's already on parole, let them do their job. You got other things to worry about."

"Easy for you to say," she mumbled before taking another sip of her drink.

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, you think growin' up with three sisters I didn't worry about them every second?"

"Any of them try to frame you for murder, go on the run for two years, prostitute themselves, rob a guy, stab a guy and then attempt to seduce their attorney to get out of it all?" she asked with faux curiosity.

"Well... no. I'll give you that one, Rollins. You win the 'fucked up sibling' award." He set his mug down on the bedside table, sitting up a little straighter to look at her. "I'm just sayin', family looks out for one another but you do it for Kim at your own expense."

"You going to school for psychiatry now?"

"I'm not, mostly because I don't have time to between work and havin' these stupid conversations with you."

She smiled a little into her mug. His patience with her was impressive; he often brought her back down to earth with humor and a knowing glance.

"I can't stay tonight." Amanda's statement was unnecessary: she never stayed. Her daughter and dog were excellent excuses, but they weren't the entire reason why she crept back into her own apartment at strange hours of the night. The physicality between she and Sonny had come easily, but true intimacy was still a struggle for Amanda. She wasn't shy about sex, yet to mesh the other quiet, private aspects of her life with his - that was terrifying. They didn't talk about it - just like they hadn't talked about any of the shifts in their relationship - and Amanda was too much of a coward to bring it up.

"I know - Jesse, Frannie." His answer sounded automatic, most likely because he had been saying it repeatedly for the past few months.

She felt a little twinge of guilt. It was unfair, but it bothered her that he _expected_ her to keep him at a distance. She took another sip of her apple cider before leaning over to set it on one of the nightstands. She moved so she could straddle his lap, sitting back so she could study his face. "Would you want me to?"

His rough palms rested along the sides of her bare thighs. "Well, yeah..."

Amanda chewed the inside of her lip.

"I get it, 'Manda. It's not a big deal." Carisi's tone was gentle, reassuring, indicating to her that he knew this was about more than her commitment to her responsibilities.

She felt her heart squeeze in her chest. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his own. She felt his hands creep further up her legs. "You lyin' to me?"

"Would I ever?"

Amanda gave a little shake of her head and replied, "never."


	10. Chapter 10

Amanda loved early morning runs when the weather started to turn cold. Not the slushy snowstorms that came in January or the frigid February temperatures, but the crisp, cool air of true autumn at dawn. It would be dark when she would leave her apartment. Kim or her sitter, Audrey, would mind a still-sleeping Jesse. For the next five miles, it was just Amanda and the city until her lungs were on fire and her calves were screaming.

Lately, there was someone beside her as she pounded the sidewalk. When their schedules aligned, Sonny would meet her and they would navigate the city as a pair. They ran in silence, both of them lost in their own heads, but they didn't need to talk to keep stride with one another. It was just another opportunity to be together outside of work; nobody but Fin knew they were seeing one another and Amanda preferred to keep it that way. Her personal life had crept into the professional far too many times already - and she had learned that NYPD liked gossip more than a group of high school girls.

That morning they reached their original meeting spot: a park halfway between both of their apartments. Amanda skidded to a halt at the gated entrance. Out of breath and sweating despite the chilly weather, she adjusted her gray knit beanie on her head as she waited for her heartbeat to slow. Sonny roughly wiped his forehead with the back of his forearm, his own chest rising and falling rapidly as he stood close beside Amanda. His cheeks were pink from exertion and the cold, which she found rather attractive.

"We gotta get goin'," Amanda said breathlessly after glancing at the time on her wrist.

"I know. Plus, I promised Liv I'd bring donuts and the line at Underwest is gonna be ridiculous," Sonny said, referencing a shop by the precinct and poking at his Apple watch.

"Get me a strawberry frosted?" Amanda requested. The breakfast of champions.

"I'm all over it. I'll see ya over there." He quickly kissed the side of her head and gave her butt a playful little squeeze through her leggings before jogging away.

She smiled to herself. Whatever it was that they were, since it began, she found herself feeling lighter. She wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible; her shoulders were tired of carrying around the weight of her past all the time. The shadows that haunted her still lurked, but with Sonny in her midst, they lost a bit of their power. He was warm and safe and sturdy.

With a big inhale, she began her journey back home, her pace slower than it had been previously. Once inside her building, Amanda let herself into her apartment. She pulled off her hat and tugged the elastic from her braid before she stopped in her tracks in her living room. Instead of finding Kim with her daughter, she encountered another frighteningly familiar figure: he was tall, tanned and tattooed with a gleaming white smile Amanda would know anywhere.

Tony DeGregorio. She had owed him thousands of dollars once. He was a vicious bookie, but he was so much more than that, too. Tony was wealthy from dirty money and had power in places he shouldn't have, partly due to the fact that he was descended from gangster royalty. His family had hustled, cheated and murdered their way through the burrows of New York City for years; Tony was continuing the legacy in Atlanta when Amanda had met him in a dim club. Gambling, money laundering, drugs, escort services - if there was an illegal way to make a profit, his fingerprints were all over it. His charm was what a young, naive Amanda initially fell for: in the throes of her addiction, she foolishly thought he could help her. Over the course of just a few months, his predatory lending had allowed her to dig herself deeper and deeper into a blackhole of debt. When she left Atlanta for New York, she stupidly assumed that her ties with Tony would be severed, that he wouldn't waste his time with her when he had so many other, larger payouts to pursue. Just remembering what had taken place while in his clutches made her skin crawl - and now he was in her house, holding Jesse in his lap.

"Amanda! I was wondering when you'd get here," Tony exclaimed happily, like he was greeting an old friend. He gave Jesse a little jostle. "Jesse here is a real doll."

Her maternal instinct kicked in before anything else: she charged toward him to rip Jesse from his grasp, holding her daughter close to her body protectively. Jesse seemed unfazed. "What are you doing here?" she demanded frantically.

"I just stopped by to see Kim before her shift. She got called into work early, though, so I said I'd watch your sweet baby girl till you got home."

"Kim? What-"

"Didn't you know? Since I've been back in New York, she and I have been seein' one another." He sighed dramatically, "I just can't help myself when it comes to a Rollins girl. You both are just too pretty for your own good."

If she hadn't been so determined to keep a firm grip on Jesse, her legs would have given out from underneath her. "Get out of here. Get out of here now or I swear to God-" Amanda ordered through clenched teeth.

"Or what? You'll arrest me?" Tony interrupted her with a chuckle. "Save it, Amanda. I've come here with a proposition for you."

"I don't want anything from you except for you to get the hell out of my apartment!"

"Oh, come on, you haven't even heard my offer yet, sweetheart!" he lamented, rising to his feet. He was wearing a sickening grin as he paced her living room floor. "Here's the deal: I know Narcotics has eyes on my man Jimmy and our guys for cocaine distribution. They have for awhile; they've flooded the zone and sales have taken a hit." He took a step closer to her. "This is where you come in: unfortunately Narcotics cleaned house recently so all my dirty cops are off duty, so I need _you_ to figure out when they are planning to bust Jimmy so we can avoid it. Cozy up to one of the detectives over there - I know you've still got game, blondie. They'll spill details to you sooner rather than later, I'm sure of it. All men are pigs, no pun intended," he rambled with a smirk. "I don't care how you do it, but I gotta lot of money coming my way and I don't want NYPD jammin' me up. You figure out their angle, you'll get a piece of the cash, too - you still got gambling debt hangin' over your head?"

"You're askin' me to interfere with a drug sting? Y'all must be out of your goddamn-"

"Oh, wait, I forgot the other part," Tony said eagerly. "If you don't do what I ask, I've got a _very_ special video that's gonna make its way straight to all of NYPD. I don't know if you remember this..." He pulled out his iPhone and turned it toward Amanda. Soon the screen was filled with gritty, green-tinted imagery, indicating it had been secretly shot in the dark. In an instant, she knew what she was watching: it was her, drunk, stripping off her clothes. Tony was her audience, perched on the edge of a mattress, watching intently as a desperate Amanda tried to pay him off with her one remaining asset.

Before she could react, Tony continued, "this is a pretty urgent matter given the circumstances, but since we're old pals, I'll give you, say, a week to weigh your options. Sunday. You say anything to Kim about this - you say anything to _anybody_ about this - and everybody sees that tape, including your lieutenant, your chief and your cop boyfriend. Me, my brothers... we got ears all over, so if you try to rat me out to somebody over there, I assure you that l'll know." He moved an inch closer to her to add quietly, still smiling, "how many chances you think you have left with NYPD, detective? You're a good lay, but I don't think your superiors will take kindly to you prostituting yourself in an attempt to weasel yourself out of gambling debt."

Stunned, Amanda choked, "that... that was years ago and-"

"Like they're gonna know that. Even if they demote you, transfer you, everybody will know who you are and what you did. What you _do._ " Tony laughed again and shook his head, as if exasperated with her. "You think I don't know your history, Amanda? Think I don't know you slept with Chief Patton in Atlanta for a favor? Or how about the blowjob you offered your baby's father, when you thought he was a manager at that gambling club you shouldn't have been in? I could go on - your sister is quite the talker."

* * *

Her strawberry frosted donut was sitting at her desk when she arrived at the squad room. The sight of it made Amanda want to vomit, but she nibbled away at it carefully in order to keep up appearances. Eventually, though, she quietly tossed the remainder in the trash.

Tony had made an easy exit from her apartment once he had named his terms, leaving Amanda alone with her panic. This was a demon she had kept secret from everybody, even her confidants in Gambler's Anonymous. Over the years Amanda had locked the memory up in the darkest corner of her mind, bits and pieces of the recollection only surfacing to taunt her in the occasional nightmare. Now it was on film, in the hands of a man who always got what he wanted no matter the price. Amanda couldn't - wouldn't - believe that Kim was knowingly involved, but then again, it wouldn't have been the first time she had put her older sister's career in jeopardy. Amanda tried to organize her racing thoughts to determine a way out of this that would spare her job _and_ her dignity, but her brain was too cloudy with anxiety to concentrate on anything but her mounting dread.

"Rollins, we gotta finish these DD5s by tonight," Fin sighed to Amanda from his desk.

"Yeah, yeah. Give me half," she responded to her partner absently, not really paying attention. Every muscle in her body was tense as she had spent hours attempting to go about her day normally. She grabbed the top half of the pile sitting between them to begin to enter them into the system. She forced her eyes to focus on her computer screen, going through the motions of beginning the worst part of being a police officer: the paperwork. She was just starting to feel almost thankful for the distraction when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Slowly, she pulled it out to see a text message from an unknown number:

 _Just in case you don't believe me, here's your cinematic debut._

Beneath the words was the video, thirteen minutes long.

Amanda frantically shut the screen of her phone off and tossed it on her desk like it was suddenly burning hot.

"You okay over there? You look like you've seen a ghost," Fin remarked.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. I just... need some air, is all," Amanda heard herself say as she pushed herself out of her chair and made a quick exit from the squad room. She headed out the back door of the building, hoping she would be alone in the alley momentarily. Once she saw that her only company was the dumpster, she began to pace. She tried to shake out her hands in an effort to rid herself of the tremors that were starting. _Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth_ , she told herself, like her yoga instructor often did. Her heart was racing, her skin was clammy. It was all pointless: any attempt to keep herself calm only served to make her more panicked. Her throat was tight but she felt like throwing up - maybe she would be lucky enough to choke to death.

"'Manda? What are you doin' out here?" Sonny appeared in the doorway.

"Go back inside," she said immediately.

He didn't move.

"Nothing is wrong. I needed air."

"You're not very convincing," Sonny responded, stepping close to her.

She leapt backward to keep space between them and he stopped in his tracks, looking confused. "Please, Sonny. Please. Go back inside," she pleaded, knowing her voice sounded strained and unnatural.

"What the hell is-"

"You can't fix everything, Carisi! Let the 'hero' thing go already!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the alley. She didn't mean it, but if ever she needed him at a distance, it was now. He couldn't know this. As much as she longed for him to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be okay, this was too ugly to share with him. This was too ugly for him to solve.

Cleary shocked, Sonny closed his mouth.

She had to turn away from him, because the hurt in his eyes threatened to rip her to shreds. Amanda heard the heavy door creak open then slam, letting her know that Sonny had listened to her - just like he always did.


	11. Chapter 11

Amanda nibbled halfheartedly at a granola bar in the snack room.

"What's up, Rollins? That your lunch?" Fin asked her, dropping into the seat across from her at the small table with a bag of chips in hand.

"Yeah, I haven't been very hungry lately," Amanda replied with her nose scrunched as she picked at a few stray crumbs.

"You're not pregnant again, are you?" he quipped, both eyebrows raised.

She rolled her eyes. She almost wished that she was; at least at the end of _that_ ordeal, something good came out of it. " _No._ I'm just tired."

"I feel you. Havin' a toddler is another full-time job. I remember when Kenny was little..."

Amanda could hear Fin's voice continuing his story, but she wasn't actually listening. The gears in her mind were turning. As much as she hated the direction her thoughts were moving in, she couldn't resist the urge to indulge them. Fin used to work Narcotics. He had been a police officer longer than she'd been alive. He was sitting there, rambling, potentially possessing information that could be of use to her...

"Can I ask you something?" she asked him abruptly. _Don't do this, Amanda. Don't entertain this as an option_ , warned what felt like the last shred of reason she possessed. Unfortunately, over the years Amanda had gotten alarmingly proficient at drowning out logic in favor of satisfying an impulse.

"Shoot." He pulled open his Doritos and began munching on them contentedly.

"When you worked Narcotics, where'd y'all hang out? After work, I mean."

"A few places, but mostly McSorley's on East 7th street 'cause it was close to the precinct. That place is always crawlin' with cops," he explained. "Why?"

"Just wondering. A girlfriend of mine wanted to have a get-together for her boyfriend around that area and uh, I didn't know what to suggest."

"Oh. Yeah. It's a chill place."

Feeling sick with guilt, Amanda offered her partner a weak little smile.

* * *

Amanda signed a sloppy version of her signature at the bottom of her tab. Four generous glasses of red wine on an empty stomach had her head fuzzy and inhibitions low. She had gone to the bar immediately after her shift that Wednesday in an attempt to be alone with her thoughts. Instead, she simply found herself drunk and desolate.

She wanted to feel better. It had only been a few days, but the weight of Tony's blackmail was crushing. She wasn't sleeping, she wasn't eating and she sure as hell wasn't doing her best police work. Sonny had kept his distance from her as if she had some kind of highly contagious illness that he didn't want to catch: he carefully skirted around her at the copy machine, remained safely behind his desk to relay information, flung himself on opportunities to work cases with Liv and Fin. Amanda couldn't blame him - if he hadn't thought she was crazy before, he had to know it now.

Wrapped up tightly in her coat, Amanda headed outside into the night. She thought of her sweet Jesse, warm and content in her crib, doe-eyed Audrey hovering over her attentively. _The twenty-four-year old nanny is a better mother than I am,_ Amanda thought to herself bitterly, her stomach clenching with shame at the mere idea. Teetering on the sidewalk, she stuck an arm out to flag down a cab. The moment a yellow vehicle slid up to the curb, she clambered into the backseat and gave the driver the address of her destination. Head leaned against the cold window, she watched as city lights passed her by in a blur.

She knocked on Sonny's door. He had worked a different shift and she had no idea if he would be home. As she waited for an answer, she anxiously chewed on the skin around her thumbnail. It felt like an eternity before he appeared, casual in jeans, a t-shirt and a plaid button-down. In silence, he looked at her expectantly.

"I forgot my jacket... last time I was here," Amanda offered as an excuse.

Wordlessly, he opened his door up wider and moved to the side to allow her in.

She stepped inside his familiar studio apartment and immediately spotted her brown leather jacket slung over the back of his desk chair, exactly where she had left it a couple of weeks ago. In truth, she couldn't have cared less about that stupid coat. She was there for one reason: Amanda yearned for an escape and Sonny had always been a person who could make the rest of the world go fuzzy for a little while. She wanted his validation and affection and anything else he could give her; he could make her feel good, even if she wasn't.

Sonny relaxed onto his couch, his expression stoic. "You wanna tell me why you're really here? You own more coats than anybody I know."

Warm from wine and adrenaline, she unzipped her jacket. In the process, she wobbled slightly on the heels of her boots. "I, um..."

"Are you drunk?" he asked her, his brow furrowed in annoyed disbelief.

"You're very astute, detective," she teased with a little giggle, hoping to get a chuckle out of Sonny, too. Instead, he stared at her blankly. His lack of response somewhat sobering, she cleared her throat and stood a bit straighter. "Look, I came here to apologize for the other day," Amanda explained, closing her eyes briefly as she squeezed the bridge of her nose, like that would help her thought process. She was making all of this up as she went along. "I've just been really, really stressed between Kim, and Jesse and work... I just kinda... lost it."

He was silent.

Amanda stared back at him as she calculated her next move. She shook off her coat, pulled off her gun and her badge and set it all aside on his kitchen table. Standing in front of him, she tugged the elastic from her messy bun so her blonde hair fell loose around her face. She asked quietly, timidly, "can you forgive me?"

Sonny said nothing and shifted his gaze away from hers.

Amanda studied his face. It was incredibly selfish, but she needed his attention. Like an addict chasing a high, she would do whatever it took to get a hit. Her fingertips began to slowly move down the buttons of her shirt, undoing them one by one. With her blouse open, she moved closer to him. She sat down, legs straddling him, her weight in his lap. He didn't resist. She could tell he was still doing his best not to look at her, but with a rush of satisfaction she caught his gaze flicker briefly to her chest.

She took Sonny's face between her palms to kiss him. "Please?" she murmured sweetly against his mouth. The instant she felt him respond, every one of her nerve endings crackled and sparked. _Victory._ Soon his hands were all over her, rough and possessive, and she knew he was pissed off but she didn't care. She'd take him angry or confused or whatever he was, because this wasn't about him. Amanda was greedy and determined to quiet the storm inside of her, if only for a little while. She let her shirt fall away from her body, her mouth still pressed to his in forceful, biting kisses. Blindly she reached behind her to unhook the black bra she was wearing, letting it join her blouse on his floor.

His calloused hands on her bare torso felt searing hot; Amanda almost wished his fingers would leave marks as a reminder. If he ever discovered the mess she was really in, he wouldn't dare touch her again. In a flash she felt his grip tighten to aggressively move her smaller frame on to her back against the seat of the couch. The long line of his body hovered over hers and their legs tangled, a hand keeping both of Amanda's thin wrists pinned above her head. She was dizzy with anticipation, her bare chest rising and falling rapidly, every soft curve exposed for him to see.

They held each other's gaze in heated silence. It was almost as if Sonny was assessing what to do with her now that he had her trapped. Amanda was desperate for him to do something - anything - to keep her head hazy with lust instead of frantic and afraid.

"You bein' honest with me?" he finally asked her, his voice husky and low.

She blinked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Of course," she lied.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:** The last bit of this story will be up toward the end of the week! I've got something else brewing of the Rollins/Carisi/Murphy variety, but I'd **loooove** any feedback or requests!

* * *

"Do you have a date tonight?" Audrey asked. The younger woman sat on Amanda's couch while Jesse wobbled her way around the coffee table.

Amanda stood at her kitchen counter, transferring necessary items from one purse to another. Her hair was in loose waves around her face, her cheeks rosy with blush and her eyelashes coated in black mascara. She was dressed in dark jeans and a fitted black tank top.

"You look really nice," Audrey went on to say.

"I... yeah. Thanks," Amanda responded absently. With her coat on and her bag slung over her shoulder, she crouched down next to her daughter. "Mama loves you," she told the little girl, kissing her face and smoothing her hand over her soft hair.

"Mama bye-bye," Jesse babbled, raising her arm and opening and closing her palm in her version of a wave.

"That's right," Amanda responded gently with a smile. "But I'll only be gone for a little while," she assured both Jesse and Audrey.

Her journey to McSorley's was uneventful, but her stomach was in knots the entire time. She wished she had had a drink before leaving to calm her frazzled nerves. Then again, she probably deserved to feel this way - what she was doing was wrong.

The pub was dark but not too crowded. Amanda scanned the room, not exactly sure what she was looking for but confident she would know it when she saw it. A younger man sat at the bar, a black jacket slung over his chair. Even in the dim lighting, she could see the bright white block letters emblazoned on the back: NYPD. On the sleeve was a badge she knew to symbolize the Narcotics unit. It was almost too easy. For a second Amanda felt a sick rush of satisfaction similar to when she got a confession out of a perp. She had always liked being a honey trap, but this time she had to remind herself that she was on the wrong side of the law.

She pulled in a steadying breath. _You have to do this. If you don't do this, everybody will know another one of your dirtiest secrets. No one will ever take you seriously again. You will lose all the credibility you've worked for with Liv. She will know you're still the mess you've always been. Not fit for duty. An embarrassment to the squad, she'll have you transferred-_

Her twisted, panicked pep-talk was interrupted by her iPhone buzzing in her purse. An iMessage from Sonny was waiting for her:

 _Did u see those 2 from Heart's Desire got married?/_

She grinned even though her heart was sinking in her chest. God, he was so damn nerdy but more than anything she wished to be sitting beside him, passionately debating the personal lives of reality television stars. Her thumb hovered over the digital keyboard to reply, but it felt wrong to engage in conversation with him while she was doing something so blatantly perverse.

Amanda dropped into the seat next to the guy she had identified as NYPD. She took her coat off and tossed her hair over her shoulders with a purposeful flounce. The bartender wasted no time taking her order; she stood out from the blue collar men milling around her. She requested a vodka soda instead of her typical whiskey neat, as she assumed the latter might make her for a cop. She wanted to look delicate and dumb, not her usual rough and cynical. Her dark eyelashes fluttered atop her pink cheeks as she deliberately flickered her gaze over to the man beside her.

It was only a matter of time before he engaged Amanda in conversation. His name was Brandon. It started off as an easy exchange of pleasantries until he was spilling his life story to her. She didn't have to do much but make a few noises that indicated she was listening, which she wasn't - at first. When Amanda actually focused on what Brandon was saying, though, she found herself suddenly present. He was an ex marine who had been deployed overseas several times. His best friend was blown to pieces by an IED right next to him in Iraq. Even though Brandon had been back in the States for a few years, sometimes he still found himself so anxious about everything and nothing that he puked in the morning. His long-time girlfriend worked for a biotechnology company and was, in his opinion, out of his league. She found his weekly nightmares annoying and slept in the guest room of their Queens apartment. He had been a New York City police officer for the past three years and was desperate to transfer to Homicide to become a detective.

"So, what are you doing here by yourself?" Brandon finally asked her curiously.

Amanda could have answered his question a thousand different ways, all of them lies, but something about this stranger's apparent honesty had her feeling more disgusted with herself than ever. It was as if every one of her untruths was now plastered across her forehead, made so much more obvious by this man's heartfelt confessions. What the hell was she doing? The lightness and brightness that had come from being open and real had fizzled out the moment demons reared their ugly head again. She was the old Amanda: charming and manipulative and miserable, only interested in those who could do something for her. Tony had come to New York City looking for that sad, desperate girl and he had found her. Amanda thought she was doing what she could to protect her reputation, but in reality, she was just a cowardly pawn.

She took a gulp of her second vodka soda. _Abandon mission._ "I've got a gamblin' problem and I gotta do something I don't wanna do to keep... something I'm not too proud of private."

Brandon's expression remained unchanged. "I heard this saying once..." He took a swig of his beer before looking Amanda in the eye."'You're only as sick as your secrets.'"

* * *

Amanda was glad to finally make it back to her apartment that night. With Audrey gone, Frannie was close at her heels as she peeked into Jesse's room: her daughter was sleeping soundly in her crib and Kim was, too, on the twin mattress Amanda had moved into the tiny space after growing tired of having her sister take over her living room. She leaned her body against the door frame.

Kim looked like a little girl buried beneath the bed sheets, her long blonde hair spread out on her pillow in a messy halo. She hadn't talked about Tony lately; Amanda hoped he had disappeared from her life as soon as he found his way to the Rollins sister he really wanted. Even though she knew Tony was cruel and manipulative, the exact opposite of a gentleman, Amanda still felt a twinge of sadness for Kim. All she ever wanted for Kim was for her to be happy.

And what did she want for herself? The one constant in Amanda's adult life had always been her job as a police officer. Amid all of her struggles, she clung to her career fiercely, as if it was a life raft adrift in her choppy sea of issues. More than once she had been spared losing her detective's shield despite blatant missteps; more than once she had sworn she would never do anything to risk her job again. Yet there she was, trusting a slimy mafioso to keep her darkest secret safe if only she broke the law and her code of ethics. He had her believing that her only path to contentment must be paved with lies.

Tears started to sting her eyes as she remained motionless in Jesse's doorway. She had spent her entire existence trying to prove that she was strong enough. Strong enough to keep Kim safe in a chaotic home, to be a detective among hoards of skeptical men, to stop gambling her life away, to forgive her father, to raise Jesse with love - and now she needed to be strong enough to ask for help.

* * *

"No offense, Rollins, but you look like hell."

Amanda took a seat in Liv's office. It was a gray Friday morning. She had asked her lieutenant to come in early to talk with her and Liv had complied. Now she eyed the blonde detective from behind her desk.

"Yeah, I know. I didn't sleep at all last night," Amanda explained.

"Is everything okay? Is Jesse sick again?"

Amanda shook her head. "Jesse is great. She's perfect."

"So... why are we here?" Liv looked tired but concerned.

"I, uh... I have a situation," she began slowly. "Kim was dating this guy-"

Liv put a hand up. "Amanda, you've already put yourself on the line for-"

"No, no. It's not Kim this time. It's... me."

"You?"

She nodded. "Last week, an old bookie of mine showed up in my apartment. He, uh, found his way there through Kim. He wanted me to interfere with a Narcotics sting."

"And you didn't, right?" Liv said slowly, like she was afraid she wasn't right at all.

"No, no. It's just... he blackmailed me." She fumbled with her phone. With trembling fingers and burning cheeks, she pulled up the video and set it in front of Liv on her desk. "With this."

"What is it?" Liv asked before she pressed play. Amanda watched as her lieutenant's eyes grew wide with disbelief. "Wait... is that you?"

Amanda kept her gaze focused firmly on a spot behind Liv. Trying to keep the emotion out of her voice, she explained, "it's me. Years ago. I slept with him to try to repay a gambling debt. I didn't know he recorded it. He threatened to distribute it to NYPD if I didn't help him with the sting."

"Amanda, what the..."

"I think... I think it's too late, at this point. I think he's got access to the database from a dirty cop who was workin' for him before he got fired. I just wanted to let you know first, before, y'know..."

Liv put her head in her hands, looking exasperated. Hot tears of embarrassment sprung up in Amanda's eyes but she wiped them away before they had the chance to fall. She was so profoundly uncomfortable, she felt like she could crawl out of her skin. Once again, Amanda was in pieces in front of the woman she respected more than anyone. Once again, her vice had made a spectacle out of her.

"Does anybody else know about this?" Liv finally asked, sounding weary.

"No. Not even Kim."

"You didn't tell Carisi?"

"Why would I tell-"

"Amanda, stop. I know what's going on between you two. Everybody does. We'll talk about that later," Liv said firmly. She exhaled, frazzled, but her expression softened most likely due to Amanda's palpable shame. "I'm going to try and do something about this. I'll contact TARU and tell them it's urgent. Distributing this without your consent... maybe we can work the revenge porn angle. I can't promise we can stop it before it gets out but I'll do whatever I can to keep you protected," she stood up and leaned forward slightly, hands pressed against the surface of her desk. "My advice? Get in front of this with Carisi. The man reads e-mail on his watch. You really want him opening this up without context?"


	13. Chapter 13

**AN:** The last bit! Thanks to everybody who has been reading, especially since this was supposed to be a one-shot 13 chapters ago! Heh. As always, feedback welcomed. Stay tuned for a sequel of sorts, if you're into that kinda thing. ;-)

* * *

Kim had gone to work that night and left a pack of cigarettes on the living room coffee table. Since putting Jesse to sleep, Amanda had eyed them. She toyed with the idea of hanging out of her apartment window for a few drags even despite the biting cold air and occasional flurries of snow. Maybe nicotine in her lungs would calm the butterflies frantically flapping their wings in her stomach. She toyed with the carton, turning it over in her palms. If she was going to begin being honest, stealing from her sister probably wasn't the best start, she figured. Already feeling guilty, Amanda put down the cigarettes and walked into her kitchen to get herself a glass of water instead. She took just a few sips before abandoning her cup and picking her phone up off the counter.

There was a quick knock at her front door before it opened. She knew who was there.

"Hey. You look nice," Sonny observed as he let himself in. He took off his coat, shaking off the bit of snow that clung to it and hung it up.

Only Carisi would compliment her when she was in a too-big sweater and leggings, her eyes tired from lack of sleep, her hair in a sloppy bun atop her head. She smiled.

He loosened his tie. "Where'd you run off to today? Me and Fin missed ya."

"I had some things to figure out. Like I said, I wanted to talk to you." Amanda walked into the living room and suggested, "why don't you sit down."

Sonny gave her a look that let her know that he was already suspicious; there was a level of comfort between them that never merited that sort of invitation. Even so, he obediently dropped onto the couch and looked at her expectantly. "Are you gonna sit down with me, or...?" Frannie put her head on Sonny's knee, as if offering herself up as a consolation prize.

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest, her loose top slipping off one of her shoulders to reveal bare skin. She didn't move from her spot standing in front of him, the coffee table between them. "I have something to tell you."

Sonny scratched behind Frannie's ears but kept his gaze on Amanda. "Okay..."

"I wasn't... bein' entirely honest with you earlier this week."

"What about?"

"This." Amanda fidgeted with her iPhone before setting it on the coffee table. She crossed her arms again, like she was protecting herself from something. Her fingers found her scar. This felt harder than talking to Liv. This felt like she had swallowed shards of glass.

Looking confused, Sonny took the phone in his hands. She watched the color drain slowly from his face as the video began to play. "What is this? I don't wanna watch this. Why are you showin' me this?" Sonny sputtered.

"It's me a long time ago. I had to show you before you saw it any other way." Her voice sounded hollow and distant.

"What the hell is goin' on, Amanda?"

"I messed up pretty bad in Atlanta and I... that guy is a bookie. I did it because I couldn't pay what I owed and... he recorded it without me knowing. He found me after all these years and used it as blackmail, wanted me to interfere with an investigation or else he'd distribute it..."

Sonny tossed the phone onto the couch. He leaned back and ran his palms roughly over his face, almost like he was trying to unsee the images that had just played out before him. Frannie continued to nudge him with her nose.

"I told Liv this morning," Amanda continued. "She doesn't know if TARU can figure out how to stop it before it gets to everybody on the NYPD e-mail list but... I couldn't let you see it without telling you first." She took a breath and tightened her arms around her body. Her next words were chosen carefully; she had rehearsed them earlier. "Whatever this is... between you and me, given the circumstances, I think it's for the best if we stop seeing each other."

He sat up straighter, his blue-gray eyes narrowing. "The best for who?"

"For you."

He stood up. "Oh, my God. You're doin' that thing again."

"What thing?" she asked him wearily. Now she wished he hadn't taken his coat off and sat down, so he could make a quick exit from her apartment, from her life.

"That thing where you tell me what _I_ need. It drives me nuts when you do that," Sonny answered, his tone loud and irritated as he ran fingers through his hair.

"Shh, Sonny! The baby," Amanda reminded him anxiously. She lowered her own voice, "I don't think you get it. If this gets out, I'm gonna be a joke. Even if TARU can rescind it after it's sent, people will have already seen it."

"What does that have to do with you and me?"

"You'll be associated with... _that_."

"Amanda-" He stopped himself, like he thought better of what he was about to say. He stepped closer to her and started again, his voice level and quiet, "the best way outta somethin' is always through, I get it. But why do you _always_ insist on going through it alone?"

Her fingers rubbing anxiously against her scar paused. She could feel herself beginning to cry but she didn't know why. She thought she had wanted him to go, to accept her explanation and sever his ties with her beyond the professional. She had convinced herself that it would be easier this way; Amanda was used to remaining unattached. But, why, then, did this feel so damn hard? Why did this feel like the biggest lie she had told thus far?

Amanda shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep herself composed. Sonny had collected all the fractured pieces of her, found value in the experiences Amanda was ashamed of, reminded her that her worth wasn't defined by her mistakes. Each time she revealed another one of her transgressions, he had inched closer, not further away. He never tried to save her, only encouraged her to keep rescuing herself. And God, was she trying. That's what all of this was for: to make changes. She had repeatedly crawled out from the under the wreckage that was her old life and was making something new, something better. What she really wanted was for Sonny to bear witness to her triumphs, just like he had hung around to see her wrestle with her past.

"Please stay. I want you to stay," she blurted helplessly, desperately, honestly.

Sonny gave her a small, knowing smile. "I'm not goin' anywhere. I never was."


End file.
